She Won't Come to Me
by Kogo Shuko
Summary: Someone has put a curse on one of Trent's horses and Rachel has agreed to help find out who did it and why. Expect some action and some fluff. And horses. Trench. Takes place after Ever After.
1. Chapter 1

I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a bubble bath. But here I was in Ivy's bathroom, the door locked, and the water running. Ivy was out for the weekend, presumably with Nina, and I was determined to relax in the tub. The lavender scented bubbles were foaming in the black tub and I was hopping out of my sweats.

The phone started ringing just as I put one foot in the hot water. I hesitated, briefly wondering if I should get it, but quickly changed my mind. I sank into the bubbles, assuming Jenks would pick it up. I sank back, losing myself in the calming scent, and heard the answering machine kick on. Jenks was probably taking his noon hour nap.

I could hear a soft murmur coming from the machine but tried not to think about going on a run. I was taking a well-deserved bath and quite frankly I didn't want to be disturbed. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything.

The calm lasted perhaps ten minutes before I heard the sound of my cell phone ringing from my room. Sighing, I sank my head under the water, letting my scraggly curls become heavy. Whoever the hell was calling me could wait until I was finished. It was only noon, and I hadn't even had my breakfast.

I spent another twenty minutes floating in the tub before I finally gave up on the pretense of relaxation. I quickly washed and rinsed my hair and emerged from the tub smelling like a flowerbed. I pulled the plug then got back into my sweats before padding out into the hall. I'd rinse the bubble scum from the tub later. I had all weekend before Ivy returned home.

I wandered into the kitchen, aware of the quiet throughout the church. The sound of early cicadas came through the open window, and I wondered if it would be a dry summer. All of the pixies that were left were out in the garden napping, except a few on sentry duty. I knew they would be on the roof, watching for any intruders.

I turned to the coffee maker and set it gurgling and then finally headed for the answering machine. Whoever had called had thought their plight was pretty important if they had left a message on the machine and then tried my cell as well. But no matter what it was about, I promised myself I'd have my coffee before leaving the church.

I pressed the play button and was surprised when I heard Trent's melodious voice come from the tiny speaker. "Hi Rachel," came his hesitant introduction. Ever since our kisses in his tiny spelling hut, we had been tiptoeing around each other awkwardly. I didn't know where I stood with him any longer and it made me uneasy. "I was hoping you could come out today," he continued. "I have a problem that I'd like you to look at. Give me a call if you can, but I've already warned the gate that you'll be coming. I'll be at the stables."

I stared at the machine, my pulse quickening at the thought of heading out to the Kalamack estate. He'd be at the stables? Was he trying to get me in the saddle again? To join another hunt? But the moon wasn't even full. I listened to the awkward silence as Trent didn't hang up, and finally I heard him say softly, "Bye Rachel."

The machine clicked and the light stopped flashing.

I looked at the coffee machine still gurgling on the counter and then headed to my bedroom. I flipped my cell phone open to see that he had also left me a voicemail and I sighed, frustrated. I knew Quen wasn't with him this month, but did he need to call me for every problem he had? I set the phone down on the bed and went to my closet, trying to decide what to wear.

He had said there was a problem, but I didn't think wearing leather would help solve it, and while I enjoyed knowing that the thick material would protect my skin if I fell, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be running today. The nicer, more sophisticated clothing wouldn't do if I was going to be around horses. No matter how hard a person tried to stay clean in a barn _something_ always happened. I finally opted for a snug pair of jeans and my Takata security t-shirt. If Trent didn't like the way I dressed then he should have thought about where I was supposed to meet him.

I pulled the clothes on and grabbed my cell before leaving my room. I was just checking my voicemail when I saw Jenks fly in through the open kitchen window. He made a beeline for the coffee maker as I heard Trent's voice again, "Hi Rachel, I hope you got my first message. I really hate to be a bother, but I'd appreciate your help. Don't worry; we won't be riding, so you don't need riding boots."

There was another small pause and then he said goodbye. He had to stop doing that. I set the phone down on the table and headed for the coffee. Jenks was sitting on top of the machine, finishing off his drop. "Looks like you've got plans?" he asked.

I sighed, grabbing my favourite mug and pouring the hot coffee into it. "Trent needs me help."

A slip of dust escaped Jenks, "Again?" he asked. "What does the cookie-maker want now?"

I shrugged as I drank the hot liquid. "He didn't say. He just told me to meet him at the stables."

I saw Jenks raise a tiny eyebrow, "Maybe he's just trying you get you alo-o-o-one, Rache," Jenks said, and then thrust his little hips. I scowled at him and swiped my hand his way. He burst from the coffee maker and buzzed over to the hanging utensils. He sat in a ladle and looked at me. "Want me to come with you?" he asked.

I nodded as I grabbed a bagel and popped it in the toaster. "He said there was a problem, so maybe you can help."

Jenks lifted off the ladle, "I'll go tell the kids," he said and he slipped out the open kitchen window.

I finished my coffee and pulled the cream cheese out of the fridge while I waited for the bagel to toast. Jenks was back just as the bagel popped and I headed toward the toaster with my cream cheese and knife. "Tink's panties, Rache, why aren't you ready yet?" he whined, and I knew he wanted to go out to Trent's probably more than I did.

I could see he had a parcel in his hands, and I smiled, knowing it was something Belle had made for her sister. "I need to eat, Jenks," I said, slathering the cream cheese onto the bagel and then taking a bite.

"Well, hurry up, would you?" Jenks griped, and then took off, heading for the front of the church. I quickly ate my bagel then went to my room to tug my boots on. I grabbed my bag and headed out the front door of the church, listening to the soft thud as the large wooden door shut.

Jenks buzzed around my head as I headed for my car. He settled himself on the rear-view mirror as I started it and backed out of the driveway. I headed out of the residential neighbourhood, knowing my route to Trent's place by heart now.

"So what if he _does_ just want you alone?" Jenks said, and I glared at him.

"If he says he's got a problem, then he's got a problem," I said. "He wouldn't waste my time."

"Oh, I don't think he'd waste your time, Rache. I think you'd enjoy every minute," Jenks snickered, and I flicked a finger at him.

"Why don't we get to Trent's place and find out what he wants before you assume that's what he's after?" I asked as Jenks flew to the back windshield, still laughing at me.

I was silent the rest of the way there.

I smiled up at the guard as they opened the gate to let me through, and he nodded back. Another guard came out and motioned for me to open the window. Turning my AC up, I pressed the window button and watched it power down before the man stuck his head inside my car. "Mr. Kalamack would like to remind you that the stables are on the left fork of the drive, ma'am."

I nodded, already knowing how to get to the stables, but still unnerved that Trent would expect me to meet him there as opposed to his office. "I promise I'll go straight there," I said, knowing the guard wanted my word.

Satisfied, he withdrew from the car and I quickly raised the window, trapping the cold air inside. I drove down the drive and took the left fork to arrive shortly at the stables. I parked the car against the side of the building, not wanting it to be too close to the door in case an angry horse sent a hoof through my window. Jenks and I headed into the barn and the scent of horses, hay, and leather hit me. It was a calming smell, and I inhaled deeply as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Behind the barn smells I thought I detected an antiseptic smell that reminded me of a hospital. I fought off a shudder and headed deeper into the barn.

At the sound of my heels thunking on the wooden floors, Trent popped his head out of a stall door. "Over here," he said quietly, and I headed his way. Jenks flew ahead of me and I saw him land on Trent's shoulder.

I stood outside the stall and looked in only to find one of Trent's racehorses lying on his side, breathing unsteadily. Trent's vet sat in the corner, putting a cap on a medicine bottle, and I knew immediately that this was the scent I had detected.

Why would Trent call me in because one of his horses was sick?

"Trent," I started, but he cut me off by opening the stall door and letting me in.

"We had a race this morning," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the animal. "He was perfectly fine when I sent the trailer out to the track, but he seems to have come down with something. Minutes before the race." Trent eyed me, and I flushed as his gaze lingered on my hair for a moment. I hadn't bothered to do anything with it, and the curls were still damp.

"This is why I'm here?" I asked.

Trent nodded, "I think someone did this to him. I'm pretty sure it was magic, but I was hoping you could confirm that for me."

I raised an eyebrow at Trent, "And how do you expect me to do that?"

Trent turned back to the horse and I only just noticed his wispy blonde hair floating a bit. "Use your second sight," he said.

I turned back to the chestnut gelding lying before me and tapped a line. The horse's ears twitched and I knew the animal had noticed. I brought up my second sight and gasped. The horse was covered in what looked like smut. The ugly black mass seemed to crawl over the animal. I instinctively knew it wasn't smut though. This was something else. And it was the reason the horse couldn't breathe right.

"What is it?" I whispered, and I felt Trent move closer to me.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I suspect it's elvin magic."

"I don't think I can fix it," I said, and I felt our shoulders touch.

"I'm not asking you to do that," Trent said, and I felt his breath shiver through my damp hair. "I want you to find out who did this."

I looked into his green eyes and saw the anger there. Trent loved his horses, no matter how he trained them to win. While the animals didn't mean as much to me, it pissed me off to see the poor creature gasping before me. Whoever had done this wasn't just trying to get Trent's attention, he was warning him of worse to come.

I studied the horse and finally nodded. If Trent's horses were in danger, then maybe so was he. And Quen trusted me to keep the elf safe. "I'll help," I said, and Jenks chirped his wings in agreement.

"Thank you," Trent said, and I felt his fingers brush my hand. I pulled back, not quite sure if I wanted him sliding his fingers through mine. My heart thumped and I heard Jenks snicker to himself.

Fine, so maybe I wasn't just helping him for Quen. I scowled at the pixy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Trent's POV**

I crouched down to the floor of the stall, and Jenks lifted off from my shoulder. I could feel Rachel's gaze on my back as my knees hit the straw bedding and I slid my hand across the horse's neck. The poor creature was slick with sweat and his chest heaved with the effort of just breathing. I was worried he wouldn't make it to sunset if I couldn't remove the black charm that shrouded him.

I felt more than saw Rachel crouch down next to me, but I was more aware of the distance than the fact that she had lowered herself down to my level. "What's his name?" she asked me, and I glanced at her.

She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a far cry from the leather she normally chose to wear. But she looked comfortable and at home in the clothes, and I was happy that she hadn't tried to dress up to impress. I watched as she tentatively put a hand on the horse's nose.

I studied the chestnut before me. He had a stripe down his nose, and his legs were long and powerful. He had been one of my best racehorses and I didn't want to have to put him down. He was just barely in his prime. His dark chocolate eye stared up at me and I felt a twinge of pain for the poor thing. "His name is Cincinnati's Shining Star, but the staff call him Cinci."

I watched as Rachel petted the creature and if I didn't know better, I'd say her touch was calming the horse down. "I guess the first thing we need to figure out is if this is a stab at your racing career or if it's a stab at you directly," Rachel said, not looking up from the gelding.

"That's going to be hard to determine," I said slowly, "But it did happen at the racetrack, and I wasn't there. Was it an attack on myself, my barn, my jockey, or just this horse in particular? It could be any of the above," I admitted.

Rachel finally leveled her gaze at me. "You don't have _any_ clue?" she asked.

I shrugged, "If I had to guess, I'd say whoever did this is singling out my stables, not my other businesses. Otherwise, why curse a horse? It'd be far easier to attack me somewhere else to get my attention. And as it is, the stables are really more of a side project. It isn't where I focus most of my attention," I admitted.

Rachel raised an eyebrow, "Is the racing business _that_ dangerous?" she asked, not really believing it.

"You'd be surprised," I said, standing up. Rachel followed me. I watched as Jenks landed on her shoulder, holding on to her hair for support for a second. "Back before the Turn it was an extremely blood thirsty sport. There are known cases where stirrups have been knifed to break at a crucial moment, risking the lives of both the jockey and the mount. People will do a lot for money."

I opened the stall door and motioned for Rachel to precede me. Once she was out of the stall, I closed it behind me, leaving the vet to sit with Cinci. "Trent, this isn't Pre-Turn," Rachel reminded me, and I smiled at her. No, indeed it wasn't.

"No, and while racing isn't as popular a sport as it used to be, it's still pretty dangerous," I told her, leading her out of the barn and into the open sunshine. "Anyone can own a racehorse, Rachel. Businessmen, farmers. Anyone with a bit of cash and a good trainer. Pranks are still played, and if an owner thinks he can get away with something he'll do it. Jockeys, too. If the judges can't see the blows out on the track, they didn't happen."

Rachel stared at me, her mouth in a tiny 'o'. Satisfied that I had surprised her, I started down the path that led back to the main buildings. Jenks flew ahead of me, sifting a silver blue dust.

"So should I be heading down to the track to look for the culprit?" Rachel asked, as she caught up with me.

I sighed, curling my hands into fists. I couldn't begin to figure out who was attacking me, and she was asking for a definitive. "I don't know," I told her honestly, as we moved from forest trees to my carefully planted gardens. "It happened at the track, but it _is_ an elven curse. So unless there's another elf horse owner out there, they may be collaborating with someone who has a grudge against me."

"Ellasbeth?" Rachel asked quickly, and I eyed her. I was well aware that she didn't like my eventual wife, and I didn't necessarily blame her. But Ellasbeth's family and I had a mutual agreement at the moment, and I couldn't see the woman staging an attack on my horses. I shook my head. "No, everything is fine on that front. But the goddess only knows how many other elves out there wanted to remain hidden from human prosecution."

Frustrated, I looked into Rachel's green eyes. "I think the best thing to do is start at the track. I have another horse lined up for a race tomorrow morning. I'll get you in with the staff and you can check the entire place out if you want."

We were finally winding our way down the path that would lead to my outdoor office, and I felt Rachel hesitate beside me. "What time do the horses normally get to the track?" she asked carefully.

I flushed, realizing she didn't sleep the same hours as me. "Early," I admitted, but when she glared at me and Jenks snickered from up the path I gave Rachel the specifics. "The trailer leaves at four with the intention of getting to the track at five-thirty."

We had reached the steps leading up to the deck and I turned to face Rachel head on, knowing she wasn't going to be happy about it.

I was right, and I resisted grinning, despite her scowl. Jenks came to rest on my shoulder, and I appreciated the support before Rachel started to complain.

"Four o'clock?!" she asked. "So you want me out here _for four?_ What kind of ungodly hour is that?!"

I shrugged, "I'm usually up at that time. When you work with horses, sunrise is but a passing glance during your day," I told her, taking the three steps up onto the deck lightly. Rachel followed, her anger more than evident. Jenks was sitting on my shoulder shaking with silent laughter.

"If I have to be here to catch a ride at four, that means I have to be up earlier. Is there even a point in getting any sleep?" she asked, and I couldn't help the small smile as I watched her eyes flash. She wore her emotions, and I was always entertained by her reactions.

"If it would make you happier, you can stay here for the night," I said, and I watched her blanch at the suggestion.

Suddenly, Jenks burst from my shoulder, a flash of red dust cascading down my arm.

"I knew it! I told you, Rache!" Jenks yelled, and then turned on me. "I'm on to you, cookie maker!" he said, pointing at me, but before I could take him seriously, he started making lewd gestures in midair. I gaped at the little pixy, my ears burning red.

"Jenks!" Rachel cried, and I turned to see her as red as I felt.

"That's not what I meant at all," I said, backpedaling as I smoothed my hands over my hair. "I'm merely suggesting she stay in Ellasbeth's apartments for the night so that she doesn't have to make an early drive out here."

"That's all?" she asked hesitantly, still eyeing her partner.

I nodded, although something deep down wished it were more. Rachel hadn't told me to just forget about our last kisses, and this time I hadn't. But every time I tried to move a conversation toward that night, she quickly switched back to a safer subject. I didn't know if it was because she was scared or if she genuinely didn't want to kiss me again. I wanted to tell her that there was nothing to worry about, but without knowing why she was avoiding me I wasn't willing to go out on that ledge just yet.

"Have I ever been anything but accommodating when you need somewhere to stay?" I asked her, and she shook her head. "And have you ever felt uncomfortable staying under my roof?"

She raised an eyebrow at me and I winced as I remembered her short time as a mink. "After that," I finished lamely.

I watched her look to Jenks before she finally sighed and I watched her shoulders fall. "Why can't I just meet them at the track?" she asked.

"It'll be a lot easier getting you in if you're with the trailer," I said, leading her across the deck toward the door. She followed a few steps behind but I held the door open for her, and kept her slightly in front of me as we headed down the hall.

We headed further into the building, Rachel unconsciously leading us to my living quarters. I was rather impressed that she knew her way so well around the compound, but I wasn't surprised. In the last few years, she had been in the place quite a bit, whether welcomed or not. When she headed down the steps into my sunken living room I opened the door to the kitchen and requested a carafe of coffee before following her toward the lowered couches.

My apartments were quiet this month, with the sounds of the babies strangely absent. It was hard getting used to their absence every time they went out west, but I was satisfied about their safety, as Quen was with them.

I sat down on the couch next to Rachel but she kept her gaze on the magicked window. "So, tell me about your horses," Rachel said. "If I'm going to be at the track, I better know a bit about it."

I inclined my head in agreement just as one of the kitchen staff showed up with the coffee. I watched as they set the carafe on a cozy, and placed two mugs next to it and poured some coffee before I spoke. I handed Rachel her coffee black, and brought my own to my lips for a moment.

"Racing is a pretty detailed sport for someone who has never been interested in it," I started.

Rachel interrupted, "How hard can it be to learn about it? Horses run around a track."

"It's more than just that," I chided gently, "I race my horses on two different kinds of track. Dirt and turf," I began, getting ready to explain the entire sport to her. This would be a long conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

I awoke to an incessant beeping the following morning. I rolled over in the bed, feeling the silky sheets slide against my skin. When I cracked an eye open and glanced at the alarm on the nearest bedside table, I groaned. Whoever had set it for 4:00 am should be shot. I reached a hand out from beneath the fluffy pillows that surrounded me and slammed the alarm off.

Satisfied that the alarm was off, I rolled back over, buried my head under the pillows and blankets and went back to sleep. Moments later the blankets were being peeled away from my head and bright light seeped in. Burrowing further, I groaned, not wanting to get up. But soft hands touched my shoulder and gently pushed me. "Rachel," Trent murmured softly and something clicked on in my head as I realized I was sleeping at his place.

I sat up, instinctively grabbed the blankets around me, and glared at him. "Get out of here!" I hissed.

Trent shook his head and I squinted at a burst of green dust coming from his shoulder. Jenks sat primly on the elf's shoulder, looking like he had always belonged there. "I told you she wasn't a morning person," Jenks quipped.

Running a hand over my tangled hair, I stifled a yawn. "What do you want?" I asked.

Trent looked away, eyeing my bag of clothes lying on the chair near the door. "It's time to get up," he told me, heading for the duffle. "The trailer leaves in a half hour and you need to be in the cab."

He picked the bag up and brought it over to the bed as I slowly extracted myself from the sheets. A girl could get used to this sort of thing – she might also never get out of bed. But was that really a bad thing? I yawned and stretched, and tried to ignore Trent as he watched me.

"Breakfast is already made," he informed me, stepping back a bit. "As soon as you're finished getting dressed, I'll meet you out in the living area."

"Thanks," I grumbled as he retreated to the door.

"I hope you have enough coffee for her," Jenks said. "Otherwise I don't think your staff will let her in the truck."

I scowled at their retreating backsides and then opened my bag. After having tea with Trent the day before, I had headed back into town to pack an overnighter and then do a few errands. Jenks had made sure the church was secure and given Belle some instructions and then we had headed back out to Trent's compound.

Despite trying to go to bed early, I had found myself tossing and turning in the bed, until I had tumbled into an uneasy sleep. It wasn't until two that I had finally slept comfortably, and two hours of sleep wasn't nearly enough to keep me happy.

I quickly pulled on the pantsuit I had chosen for my trip out to the track, realizing that I could probably get farther dressed nice than dressed for action. As it was, I probably wouldn't be chasing anyone anyway. I mean, how dangerous could a racetrack be?

I padded into the washroom in my sock feet with my toiletries and set about fixing my hair. I suddenly missed having Jenks' children around. Braiding my hair was a nuisance, but they loved a challenge. When I was satisfied my hair was suitable, I put my brush away and headed out into the living room area. Trent was already at the table, newspapers in front of him and two steaming cups of coffee sitting there.

I quickly made a beeline for the mug that seemed to scream my name. I sank into the chair across from Trent and put my hands around the ceramic. I sighed with pleasure even before I brought the java to my lips. I knew without a doubt that Trent's kitchen staff wouldn't be able to create a bad pot of coffee.

I was still sipping on the piping hot drink when the cook came bustling out of the kitchen carrying two big plates of waffles. My stomach rumbled as I remembered those waffles. They were delicious, and perfectly fluffy, and even at this early hour I was willing to scarf down as many as I could. The cook placed one of the plates in front of me and gave me a warm smile before heading back into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her.

I reached for the bowl of berries that sat between Trent and I and I gave myself a generous portion before putting them back. I saw the amusement in Trent's eyes as he watched me. "What?" I asked, drizzling maple syrup all over the waffles.

Trent lifted his shoulders, "Nothing at all," he said, and pulled the berries his way. I watched him put a few spoonfuls on his own waffles as I popped the first morsel into my mouth. I closed my eyes and nearly moaned in bliss. I continued to dig into my plate as Trent meticulously poured the syrup over his and began cutting the waffles into small pieces.

"The trailer should arrive on time to the track this morning and my staff will begin unloading. If you want, Gerry, our jockey, can show you around the spots you wouldn't normally be able to go." Trent said, still not taking a bite. How could the man _stop_ himself from eating these?

I nodded, my mouth full. Trent finished cutting through the waffles and looked at me. Surprise showed on his face and I realized I probably looked like a chipmunk. I swallowed quickly. "Okay, I'll follow your jockey around."

Trent nodded and I watched him take his first bite. He chewed and swallowed before speaking again. "Our horse starts at 10:00, so you have some time before the race, but I'd like you to be back at the stables before warm up. Cinci was fine until midway through the warm up, so I'd like you to be there for that, just in case they plan on striking again."

I nodded, even as I polished off my first waffle. I stopped only to wash it down with a nice gulp of coffee. The caffeine was slowly kicking in, and I knew I'd be wide awake by the time I reached the track later that morning.

"You'll be watching Dulciate Delight. She's an up and coming filly and she'll be run on the turf track." Trent flipped a newspaper over, skimming the headlines. "The weather is good, so that shouldn't be a problem today."

I smiled wistfully at the little mention of Ceri's bloodline, knowing that the horse had probably been named before Ceri had died. But it was nice that he kept the horse, all the same.

The sound of Jenks' wings clattered into hearing, and I watched as he made a beeline for the maple syrup on the table. He landed next to the little pot and soon his little chopsticks were out and he was weaving the sticky stuff onto them. He was a quick drunk so I wasn't worried about his compromising our run later this morning.

But the moment he had had his fill and started to weave a bit, I regretted letting him take some syrup.

"So Trent," Jenks said as the business man in front of me delicately ate another morsel of waffle. I was over half done my plate and Trent had barely touched his breakfast. "You had Rachel in your home, in one of your beds… and you left her in peace?"

I groaned as I watched the tips of Trent's pointy ears turn red. He eyed the little pixy standing before him and then spoke calmly, "She's here on business, Jenks. I didn't bother you either," he pointed out.

"Well you were up long enough, and I _saw_ you staring at her door," Jenks said, as he sat down rather quickly. "She wouldn't have minded," he added, hiccupping.

I turned red and glared at Jenks. I didn't know if I was more upset that Jenks was spewing such secrets about me or that Trent had been contemplating… something. I looked across the table to find that Trent wouldn't meet my eyes. Curse the Turn, Jenks was right! The little cookie maker _had_ thought of making a move during the night!

I popped the last piece of waffle into my mouth and swallowed. I wanted out of here now. My pulse was quickening but my thoughts had turned sour. My mind and my body obviously didn't agree with how I should react, but I was leaning toward agreeing with my mind. "So, when does the trailer leave?" I asked, standing up from the table.

Trent checked the watch on his wrist, and I realized he was dressed for work already. It was Sunday and he was still planning on working. I was working too, but runs were different. I usually had a lot of free time in between them. He looked up, setting his fork down. "It's leaving in just a few minutes. We need to get you to the stables."

Trent stood, and Jenks lifted off from the table, weaving in the air until he landed on my shoulder, gripping my sweater for support. I followed Trent from the compound, still feeling uneasy after Jenks' announcement in the dining room. What did Trent want? Was this _just_ about his horses?

I didn't have much time to dwell on it though. We reached the stables to find that Dulciate Delight was already loaded onto the trailer and Trent's staff, including the jockey, were waiting on me. Embarrassed, I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped into the cab of the truck that was hauling the trailer. I watched as Trent said a few words to the driver, and soon I was squished in between all of the men.

Trent gave me a one handed wave from the drive, and I heard Jenks mutter something from the rear-view mirror about elves stinking up the truck. As we trundled down the drive toward the gatehouse, I turned back to see Trent staring after us. My heart gave an extra thump as I watched him disappear around a bend, and I wondered just why he hadn't come into my room last night.

I turned back around, ready to face the day – no matter how tired I was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Trent's POV**

I watched as the trailer drove out of sight and then looked toward the stable. I could hear the quiet sounds of the horses eating the hay that had just been laid down in the stalls, and I felt the urge to go see Tulpa. I stepped into the dark barn and paused a moment to let my eyes adjust. I quickly headed to Tulpa's stall and the horse came to greet me immediately.

He was still munching on a mouthful of hay. "Hey buddy," I said quietly, and Tulpa stuck his nose over the stall door, hoping that I had an apple, despite his already working on the hay. I brushed my fingers down his nose and he snorted. I chuckled, stepping away from the fine spray that came from his nostrils.

I desperately wanted to put the saddle on him and go for a ride, but I had a conference call in an hour, and I knew they expected me to be there. I reached up and scratched behind Tulpa's ears and when his eyelids drooped and his chewing slowed, I knew I had found just the right spot. I scratched him for a few moments and when he had had enough he moved back toward his pile of hay and I watched him eat for a few moments.

I left Tulpa's stall and checked in on Cinci to find the horse was still breathing, but no better off. I would have to work on a countercharm this morning to have any hope of the animal surviving.

Sighing, I turned and went back out into the sunshine, taking the path back toward the compound. I still had time to finish my breakfast before the meeting, and my stomach rumbled at the thought of the waffles that I had left sitting on the table. I knew the kitchen staff would have probably cleaned the plates away by now, but I could get them to make some more.

I was just going inside when the cell phone in my pocket buzzed. Wondering if Rachel was calling to ask something, I pulled it out and checked the caller ID. What started off as hope was dashed when I recognized Ellasbeth's personal number. Flipping the phone open, I brought it to my ear. "Hello Ellasbeth," I said smoothly.

"Trent, you need to tell your security guard to stay away from my children," Ellasbeth snapped, thus dashing any hopes I had for having a good morning.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the annoyance and anger coming back full force. I had no idea how I would possibly manage to marry this woman, even if it were only for political reasons. "Quen is equally a parent to both of them as you are," I said calmly, walking down the hall toward my rooms. "He has every right to take on the role of father while you are watching the children, and in fact, I'd much rather them have a male role model with them at all times."

"He doesn't belong here," Ellasbeth said, ignoring me. "He's not pure."

I scowled, my feet hitting the stairs hard. "That has absolutely nothing to do with their upbringing, and you know it."

"It has everything to do with their upbringing. I don't want my daughter thinking that a half-breed is her father," Ellasbeth said snidely, and I growled. "As it is, I'm hardly comfortable having her grow up with Ray as her sister. This is going to confuse her. We're blurring the line between family and the hired help here, Trenton."

"How does that even matter?" I scoffed, "They were doing fine with two fathers and one mother before you came along, Ellasbeth. I hardly think Quen and Ray being in Lucy's life is going to change anything now."

But having Ellasbeth in her life certainly would.

I sighed, as Ellasbeth continued to complain. I reached the little dining area and was happy to see my waffles were still sitting at my spot. I slid into my seat and speared a piece of waffle. "And honestly, Trenton, I think Quen is trying to convince Lucy that she shouldn't like me."

I rolled my eyes. Quen didn't need to tell Lucy anything. My daughter was smart enough on her own to figure that one out. I wasn't surprised that Lucy wasn't taking to her mother. After growing up with Ceri in her life, Ellasbeth must seem like an alien creature to the babies. Ellasbeth couldn't even boil water without the staff doing it for her.

"Ellasbeth," I interrupted. "Quen is part of their lives, and I refuse to take that from them. In fact, I'm glad he's taking such an important role in their lives. He does a lot of the things that even you wouldn't want to do," I finished, and my fiancée finally stopped whining.

"Is there anything else you care to discuss?" I asked between bites.

"Well, no," she admitted. "But I still think my concerns are warranted."

I finished off the first waffle, glad I had something sweet to counteract against the bitter taste Ellasbeth left in my mouth. "If you're just calling to complain, I have more important things to do," I informed her, stabbing my fork into another piece. "I have a horse that's sick and a business meeting to catch. Talk soon," I said politely, and then hung up the phone to her protests.

I quickly finished my plate and stacked the dishes together. I dropped them off in the kitchen before heading up to my office. Ellasbeth had been giving me nothing but trouble when it came to the children and I was seriously getting fed up with her attitude toward Quen. She loved both children, but she had to find something to complain about, and singling out the man who loved the children more than he valued his own life seemed to be her agenda.

I couldn't understand why she felt the need to point out that Quen wasn't pure elf. Her blood wasn't so pure either, although it was definitely stronger than Quen's. Whether Quen was a full elf or just half, his loyalty to his race was more than Ellasbeth's. Her loyalty lay with her own priorities, not the wellbeing of our species.

I spent the entire conference with my mind elsewhere, and on more than one occasion I heard my name being called over the phone while I worried over Ellasbeth's petty demands. When the call was finally over, I left my office as quickly as I could, not wanting to be stopped by an employee looking for answers to simple questions.

I headed back to my apartments to go to the closet, intent on looking at the old books. I needed to find a countercharm for Cinci, and I needed to find it yesterday. I was flipping through a particularly old book of spells when my cell phone vibrated again. A title caught my eye as I pulled the phone from my pocket. I checked the caller ID to see it was Rachel calling, and deciding it could wait, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and picked up the book to read the spell. The spell was a restrictive binding spell that held the captive in a state of unease and poor health. I was sure it was designed to hold demons and other magical creatures, but it could very well be used on animals as well. The description seemed to match the symptoms I had noticed in Cincinnati's Shining Star, and I quickly flipped to the next page to find a countercharm.

I read through the simple spell, jotted it down on a scrap of paper and then carefully put the spell book back in the case. With the spell in hand I left the closet, and headed out toward the stables again. I hadn't spent this much time with the horses in ages, and despite the somber atmosphere in the barn when I arrived, I still enjoyed the scents that mingled in the building.

I headed toward Cinci's stall, my work shoes eerily silent on the wooden floors. I peeked in the stall to find Cinci still on his side, a fine sheen of sweat covering him. This was one of my best horses, even if he only raced well on the turf track.

I opened the stall door and went inside. The vet was nowhere to be found, and the barn was silent, as the other horses had been let out into the pasture for the day. I contemplated Cinci as the horse looked up at me with one dark eye.

I didn't have my hat or ribbon, but I had stopped using the magical tokens. I felt my grasp of the art was much stronger now, and I didn't need the added help. I pulled the scrap of paper from my pocket and studied the Latin. It was an old charm, but not one of the oldest. I knelt down next to the horse and tapped the ley line. I felt the energy fill me as I focused on the tiny slip of paper.

Confident that I could do this, I spoke the words, "Restrictione in corpus, Continere super mens." I felt the magic rush through me, waiting for the last sentence to be spoken. The magic flew through my veins. I only needed to speak to invoke it. "Ex hoc ego absolvo vos." I finished the charm and felt the magic flow free, crackling in the air between myself and the gelding.

Watching the horse with my second sight, I was delighted to see the black shroud that had enveloped the horse begin to recede. Within moments, all that was left were a few remnants of it near the corners of the horse's eyes and ears. And then, even that was gone.

A sense of accomplishment coursed through me as I watched Cinci roll himself to his knees and quickly stood. He had lost weight in the past day, but other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. I stood, grinning, and ran a hand over the thoroughbred's neck, feeling the sweat already drying there. I had untwisted the charm!

Cinci nosed me, looking for a treat, and I scratched the horse behind his ears before I slipped from his stall, looking for a stable hand. When I had found one, I quickly gave him instructions to feed Cinci and give him a good, warm bath. The stable hand looked at me with hope in his eyes and I smiled at him, my own good humour showing through. "He's better now, yes. Let's get him the food he's missed out on, yes?"

The young man nodded and jogged off, heading for the feed room.

Smiling to myself, I decided to go for a walk through the gardens before heading back to the office, and I pulled my phone from my suit pocket as I walked through the trees. I scrolled to Rachel's number and hit send. As I walked along, the sound of cicadas a background noise, I listened to the phone ring until it went to voicemail.

I frowned.

Rachel had obviously wanted to talk to me, but now she wasn't answering her phone. Was something wrong?

* * *

**The English for the above Latin is as follows: **_**Restriction over body, Control over mind. I hereby free you.**_

**I don't pretend to know Latin. I simply stuck those words into a translator, so it's probably horrendous. ;)**

**I know my chapters are pretty short, but, I've made a deal with myself to follow my NaNoWriMo rule. I will write 1667+ words for each 'chapter' (this could mean I could have a 3000 word chapter though), which also means I'll probably be writing my chapters 4-5 days a week, as opposed to once a week. So while they're short, you'll get them more often than if I was writing a lot more. I hope that's okay!**

**Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following! It means so much to me. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Rachel POV**

The truck trundled through the back gates of the River Downs racetrack. I could hear Dulciate Delight shuffling around in the trailer behind us, and she trumpeted a welcoming call to the horses that were being exercised in the quiet morning air.

No one at the gate had given me a second glance, and we had gotten through without any hassle after the guards had checked the trailer. We were now headed for a row of stalls where I could see horses watching the track eagerly. The truck rolled up to an empty stall and everyone scrambled down from the cab. Despite it being an extended cab with a backseat, six people in one truck was a bit too much. Everyone but myself and the jockey appeared to be an elf, and Jenks had been right about them stinking up the truck.

I stretched and breathed in the air. Instead of cinnamon and wine, I could smell horses, leather, and freshly cut grass. I let my breath out in a sigh of relief. I turned to watch the men take the horse out of the trailer, and stepped back a bit when the filly came down the small ramp backwards. Her ears were pinned back and the whites of her eyes were showing. She clearly wasn't happy.

The jockey stood next to me as the other men pulled her backwards down the ramp. She reared up on her hind legs, her eyes glaring into the interior of the trailer. "She hates trailering," Gerry informed me. "A lot of them do, but Em really has a passionate hatred."

"Em?" I questioned, looking down at the small man.

Gerry nodded, "We call her Emily. It's easier than Dulciate Delight."

"Do you nickname all of the horses?" I asked the jockey as the other men finally managed to get the horse away from the trailer. She danced on the end of the lead, but she seemed to be calming down. The driver closed the trailer and got back in the truck.

"We do, and usually at a pretty young age," the jockey admitted. "Emily here just seemed like an Emily. I call her Em, and she seems to respond well to it."

As the truck finally pulled away, the horse finally stopped prancing and the men led her into her designated stall. The stalls at the track were very spacious and her lead line was tied up so that the men could start cleaning her up. She had a fine sheen of sweat over her dark brown fur and I watched as someone rubbed her down.

I felt a tug on my sleeve and I turned to find Gerry looking up at me. The man was short, but I was pretty sure he wasn't a leprechaun. "Would you like a tour?" he asked, grinning at me.

I stepped away from the stall door and nodded. Gerry motioned for me to follow and he led me toward a door. "This here is where the jockeys go," he said, opening the door for me.

I stepped inside and looked down the hallway. Gerry motioned to two doors on either side of the hall. "These are the change rooms. We all dress in the proper silks, and I have mine back in the truck. Not every owner has a fulltime jockey, so some of the guys work the entire day. Mr. Kalamack pays me well, and I ride only for him. It's part of the contract."

Gerry grimaced and I raised an eyebrow. Gerry shrugged. "Not everyone appreciates a jockey with a secure job."

I realized Gerry was referring to the other men. His job must seem lucrative compared to spending your entire day at the track hoping for another mount. Gerry was probably the equivalent of a sellout in the racing world.

Gerry opened the door to one of the change rooms and I peeked inside to see a few rows of benches and lockers. Satisfied and not wanting to go in, in case there were some men changing, I stepped back and Gerry led me down the hall. The hallway opened up onto an airy room where I saw a few official looking people milling about.

Gerry gestured toward three hospital-style scales. "This is where we do our weigh in. They weigh the jockey with the saddle, and then add any additional weight so that each horse has a fair advantage. If a horse is a favourite, they sometimes get a handicap, so that other horses have a chance at winning against him. Em has only raced a few times, so I don't think I'll be getting a handicap today."

"What's a handicap?" I asked, staring at a row of shiny saddles. The leather had been polished, but they also looked well loved. I assumed these saddles were for the first race, so I didn't bother asking Gerry if one belonged to him. The saddle was probably still in the trailer.

"A handicap is extra weight. There are little inserts in the saddle to put the weights in." Gerry pointed at some dull metallic objects.

"Once we've weighed in, we leave via that door," Gerry indicated, "And head straight for the track for warm up. We'll do the warm up on the dirt track, but Em is running a turf race this morning."

Gerry led me back down the hall, and we exited the building, making our way around to the rail to look at the track. I looked out at the track, with its fresh dirt, and noticed there was a smaller track inside of it. "What's the difference between turf and dirt?" I asked.

Gerry pointed to the smaller track, "The turf track is basically a grass track. The horses run on grass, and some people say it's better for the horse. More natural. Some horses run faster when on a turf track, like Cincinnati's Shining Star. He does poorly on the dirt, so Mr. Kalamack just doesn't race him on the bigger track."

"What about Em?" I asked.

"Em can race both. Today just happens to be a turf day."

Gerry continued giving me a tour and eventually left me to wander. I found that the track had a lot to offer the general public, including a really nice restaurant – which I could see Trent conducting track business at – a bar, gambling, and even a spot to drop your kids off. For the serious better, I assumed.

Eventually I found my way back to the stable to find that Emily had been groomed to the point where she was gleaming. Gerry was nowhere to be found, but I spotted the driver of the trailer sitting on a bench, punching away at the keys on a Blackberry. I wandered over to him, and sat down. "Where did the jockey go?" I asked.

The man shrugged, "He's probably getting ready. It's almost time for warm up."

Right on cue, the stable hand brought Dulciate Delight out of the stall, and I eyed the dark brown horse. Her fur was so smooth she looked like glass, and her brown eyes darted everywhere. Her ears twitched with every sound, and at the cheer of the small crowd, I watched her leap forward on the end of her lead. The filly knew she was going to race soon, and she was excited.

I stood from the bench and followed the stable hand and mare out toward the track. We had just arrived near the door that Gerry had pointed out earlier when the jockey emerged from the building, holding a tiny brown saddle in his hands. He had changed from his jeans into his riding clothes. The shirt and cap were silk, and the colours were a light aqua against a dark green. The colours more than reminded me of Trent, and I thought he had chosen them quite well.

I watched as the jockey quickly threw the saddle onto the animal and tightened the girth. Emily grunted her annoyance but Gerry waited a few seconds and then tightened it again. Once the saddle was secure, the stable hand boosted the tiny man into the saddle, and I realized just how big the young horse really was. Gerry really looked like a leprechaun from his perch on the horse's withers.

Gerry turned Em toward me and smiled down at me. "I'm just going to warm her up getting to the gate. Do you want to go in the stands to watch?"

I shook my head, remembering Trent's warning. "I better stay here," I told him.

Gerry shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said, and then turned the horse to the track. He nearly stood in the saddle as he leaned over Emily's neck and urged her forward into a trot that looked one part dance one part stride. The filly was truly a beautiful animal.

I watched as the horse headed away from me, toward the opening to the turf track. When I was satisfied that both the horse and rider were safe, I scanned the crowd nearest me. Everyone seemed intent on looking at little papers in their hands, and I gathered they were all thinking about their bets on the race.

As my eyes slid across the stands a bit farther from me, I caught a flash of blonde hair. Squinting, I focused on the man sitting in the front row and watched as his hands moved. His gaze was focused intently on Dulciate Delight and his hair floated where no breeze was.

Son of a bitch.

I started moving through the people at the railing, heading in his direction when I heard I heard a cry from the track. I looked back to see Trent's filly falling to her knees, her neck stretched in pain. I quickly turned back to the stands to see the elf sitting with a look of triumph on his face.

"Hey!" I cried out, and watched as everyone near him turned to look at me. His eyes came to rest on me and recognition seemed to cross his face. He stood, and I watched as he began to inch his way through the people next to him.

Whipping out my cell phone, I pressed the speed dial number for Trent and continued to weave my way through the people. I finally reached the stairs that led up to the bleachers and trotted up the first few of them. My phone went to voicemail and I cursed.

What was wrong with Trent? I'd only call him if there was a problem, and right now he had a second horse down. I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and jumped around two kids who were clearly eager to stare at the pretty horses on the track.

The elf in front of me looked around to mark my progress and he glared at me before running up the next flight of stairs, heading toward the top of the bleachers.

I jumped onto an empty seat and vaulted into the next row, running down the almost empty aisle. People were moving quickly out of my way while shouts of protest surrounded me. I hated chasing someone in a crowded place. I reached the stairwell and started up only to realize he was running down another row, jumping from one level of chairs to the next, heading back down toward the rail.

Cursing, I turned and started running down the stairs. My hand went to the small of my back where my splat gun should have been. Smart as I had been, I hadn't brought it with me. I had figured nothing would happen.

At the clatter of wings, Jenks, who had been missing in action, and most probably been sleeping off his syrup hangover in the truck, appeared before me. "I'll pix him, Rache!" he shouted, and I watched as he flew away, toward the fleeing man.

A burst of blue sparkles exploded over the man's head just as he reached the rail and swung over to drop down to the track. I reached the rail moments later, and swung over, falling to the dirt track only to crouch down to absorb the shock. All of the horses, except Emily, were off the dirt track now, and I was vaguely aware of the sound of a bell going off. Ignoring that, I chased after the man, heading toward the waist-height fence that blocked the dirt track from the inner one.

Once he hit the fence, he started running along beside it, snatching glances back at me as he went. Glad that I had worn sensible shoes, I followed, easily catching up. Jenks was flying in front of me again, cursing out the man. I watched as he zipped forward, his pixy steel levelled to slash out at the man. As I finally caught up to the man, and reached out to grab him by the collar, he stopped and I ploughed into him.

We tumbled along the dirt, and I grappled with him, trying my best to land on top of him. When we finally stopped rolling, I pounced on him as I pulled a zip strip out of my pocket. I pulled his wrist up and the sound of it ratcheting home filled me with glee. But the man was still looking at me with a wicked grin even as I finished cutting the magic off from him.

"Life is never that easy," he said suddenly, and pulled his legs under me. I gasped as he kicked upward, and I sailed through the air.

"Rachel!" Jenks cried out as I arced over the fence, and I was aware of a rumbling sound. I hit the grass face first and groaned.

The rumbling sound that I heard suddenly shifted in my head as I realized where I was. I looked up in horror at the horses pounding down the track at me just as the phone in my pocket started to vibrate.

Shit.


	6. Chapter 6

I quickly scrambled to my feet and sprinted back toward the fence. The sound of the horses' hooves on the grass was like thunder in my ears, and I could hear the riders yelling at me. I reached the fence and looked back to see the horses string out along the inner fence, the jockeys pulling their horses away from me. They surged by me in a group of powerful legs and tiny men. I was close enough to hear the slap of the whips on the horses' skin and feel the breeze of their passage. I vaulted over the fence and scanned the track to see the man I had been chasing slip into the stands.

Figured.

I loped across the track with Jenks buzzing in my ear. "I didn't know what to do!" he said shrilly, "I couldn't fight a pack of runaway horses!"

"I got out just fine," I griped as I reached the stands and jumped to catch the railing in my hands. I hauled myself up and over the railing and looked around. The elf was gone. Growling, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and speed dialed Trent. He picked up immediately this time.

"Why weren't you answering your phone?" he asked, impatience in his tone.

I snorted. "I could ask the same question," I said, as I headed toward the stables. "You've got another horse down and the man who did it tried to throw me under the bus, so to speak," I told him wryly.

Trent was quiet for a few seconds, "Are you alright?" he asked finally just as I reached the stall where his group of men were surrounding Em. She was still standing, but holding her right leg off the ground. That didn't look good.

"I'm fine. Not so sure about Dulciate Delight," I said, slipping into the stall. "The man was an elf, but he looked more like you than like Ellasbeth," I told him.

Trent mulled that over and then replied, "That would suggest it's probably a local hit."

I scowled, "As in, it's not Ellasbeth."

"Precisely," Trent said smoothly. "What happened to Dulciate Delight?"

I ran a hand down the horse's neck but she flinched under my touch. "I'm not sure. One of your guys could tell you better."

The stable hand that had been holding onto the horse stuck his hand out for my phone and I placed it in his palm. I stared at the horse's hurt leg as the man talked. "Mr. Kalamack," he said politely and listened for a second. "It looks like a bucked shin, but we'd need to get an ultrasound to know for sure."

He was quiet again, "No, she was perfectly fine before the warm up. But now she's in so much pain that it looks like we've been working her with the injury for weeks. But we know that's not the case."

He was silent, and then looked at me. "She chased some man onto the track and almost got run over." There was a pause, "No, she didn't catch him."

He finally turned off the phone and handed it back to me. "Well, getting her on the trailer should be fun," he said just as the truck rolled up.

I stood back and watched as they slowly helped the horse onto the trailer. She wasn't happy, and every time she reared up I winced as she came crashing down, putting weight on her hurt leg. They finally had the unhappy horse in the trailer and they quickly closed and locked the doors and herded me into the cab.

The drive back to Trent's compound was awkwardly silent, except for Jenks' remarks every now and then. We hadn't learned much from our encounter at the track, but it was enough to determine that the attacks on Trent's horses were either about the sport itself or perhaps about his brimstone shipments. I was leaning toward the racing – why hit him in the same spot twice unless you want him out of the business?

We finally arrived at Trent's stables and everyone piled out into the bright sunshine. Trent was waiting for us in the shadows of the barn. He came forward and nodded at me before heading to the back of the trailer to help with Em. Jenks lighted on my shoulder and watched. "I think Trent's having a bad day," he noted.

To my surprise, I heard a snort behind me and I turned to see Cinci standing at the gate to the paddock. "Trent fixed him," I said, walking over to the fence and scratching the horse's nose. Jenks lifted off my shoulder, trailing a silvery green dust. The horse watched him with bright eyes, and I smiled to myself. At least something good had happened today.

I looked back to watch as Emily slowly came down the trailer ramp, her ears pinned again and her eyes rolling. You'd think Trent would train the horse to get on and off the trailer calmly, but perhaps even some personality traits can't be buried. As soon as she was away from the trailer and calmed down, the vet came out and I noticed him running his hands down the horse's front legs. Once that was done, they led the filly into the barn, her limping form followed by everyone but Trent.

I gave Cinci one last pat on the cheek and then turned to find Trent walking toward me. Jenks was on his shoulder, and I could hear him saying something to the elf, but I wasn't sure what. "How did you do it?" I asked, motioning to the horse standing behind me. I watched as Jenks flew away.

"I found the charm they used in one of the older magic books," Trent admitted, running a hand through his hair. "The countercharm was simple. I don't think that'll be the case with what happened to Dulciate Delight though."

Trent sighed. "They know enough about horses. However they cursed Dulciate Delight, they were smart enough to give her an ailment that's common in young racehorses if they're worked too hard."

"Do you work your horses too hard?" I asked, and Trent raised an eyebrow. I shrugged, "I had to ask."

"We train them hard, yes. But not too hard. I have a vet on staff so we can treat our horse at the first sign of discomfort. Even still, this is a common injury among the younger horses, so whoever did this made sure it _wouldn't_ look like foul play." Trent reached out and rubbed a hand behind Cinci's ears and I watched the horse lean into him.

"It sounds more and more like track politics," I said. I heard the clatter of Jenks' wings and he flew up with a tiny package in his hands. He dropped to my shoulder and looked at me sheepishly, "Belle's sister had something for me."

Trent pushed away from the fence, his eyes going to the barn. I could tell he was eager to see just how bad the filly's injury was, but he was staying with me. "I agree, Rachel. Before, I thought it might have something to do with the new hospital wing," he gave me a meaningful look, and I knew he was referring to the Rosewood babies. "But after today's attack, it looks more like someone's trying to ruin my name in the racing business."

"Well, if that's the case, it looks like I'll be spending more time at the track," I said. "Unfortunately, he knows what I look like now."

Trent shrugged his shoulders and for a moment I forgot that his horses were being attacked as my mind strayed to the memory of feeling those muscles under my fingertips. I blinked away the thoughts and focused on his eyes. He gave me a quizzical look but I just shook my head. Did he have to look so good in his business suit?

"You should be able to whip up a disguise, right?" Trent asked, and I nodded.

His eyes strayed to the barn again, "I'll pull my horses from the track for this week, but I'll keep next week's races. I'd like you to watch and see if they're waiting for me when I don't show. And if they're attacking other owners as well."

"Alright. So I'm going to bet, I take it?" I asked, thinking about how much money I'd need to sink into my new persona.

Trent nodded, "It's the only way you'll fit in. Especially if you're going daily. I'll get you the money you'll need and a list of the favourites for this week's races."

Trent was wrapping up our conversation and I could tell he wanted to go check on his horse. I moved a few steps away from him. "Thanks. Is it okay if I see myself into your apartments to get my stuff?"

Trent hesitated and I watched as he thought it over. He finally nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Rachel." Before I could start down the path, he had reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. My breath caught as I wondered what he was going to do, but he only looked me in the eye and said, "And don't go out on the track again. You're going to get yourself killed."

I flushed, but replied quickly. "I won't, so long as the bad guys stay the hell away from me."

Trent smirked and he squeezed my shoulder before letting me go. "I'll send someone with the money later today," he said as he started toward the barn.

"Thanks," I called after him and watched as he disappeared into the barn. I wished he was wearing jeans. He looked good in his business suit, but the jeans made his butt look so much better. "Rachel, can we stop with the dreaming and get home?" Jenks asked, and I turned toward the path, embarrassed that he had caught me staring.

We were quiet as we made our way back to Trent's compound, but I knew it wouldn't last long. "So when are you gonna jump the cookie maker?" Jenks asked. "The sooner, the better. Your attention is shot every time he's near you."

I glowered as I made my way into the compound. "I'm not going to jump him," I said.

"Why not? You're cranky when you're not getting any and I know he'd enjoy it as much as you."

"Why the sudden change of heart, Jenks?" I asked. "You can't stand Trent."

"He's not as bad as I thought he was," Jenks admitted. "And I know he respects you."

"And that matters when I jump someone?" I asked, using his term.

"For you, yes." Jenks said. "I also notice you aren't denying the fact that you _do _want to get in his pants."

My cheeks burned red. I remembered the kisses we had shared in Trent's little spelling hut. No one knew about it but Trent and I. I also knew it would never lead anywhere. I wasn't what Trent needed, and I wasn't going to ruin what he had going right now. "It doesn't matter," I said, trying to forget about it.

"Sure." Jenks said, and then buzzed his wings. "I'll say this much though. At least you like someone with money. Better than crap-for-brains. I just don't know if he can be trusted with power."

I sighed as I stopped in Ellasbeth's rooms and gathered my things. My problem was that I did trust Trent. I trusted him more than I probably should. I was just worried that he'd hurt me eventually. Or I would hurt him. Our relationship had to stay where it was. The fine balance kept us in safe territory where no one got hurt – but we both were never happy.

* * *

**I apologize for the completely lackluster finish of my last cliffhanger. I just figure Rachel doesn't need constant saving. Let her save herself once in awhile. ;)**

**I'd also like to note that while I do know some about racing, most of my information is completely outdated, so I could very well be wrong about what the jockeys go through today. I'm afraid I haven't followed that sport in some years, but I am using my previous knowledge. But I know horses, so there is that!**

**As always, I appreciate the reviews so far! And while I'm without internet this weekend, I will at least be writing! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Trent POV**

I moved through the barn, heading toward the large stalls at the back that were usually empty. They were meant for mares about to foal, but on occasion we had to move a hurt or sick horse into them. When I arrived, the vet was crouched on the floor of one of the stalls, his portable ultrasound machine nestled in the straw bedding. He was moving the paddle over Dluciate Delight's healthy leg and looking relieved.

He looked up when I entered the stall. "She definitely has a bucked shin, Sa'han," he told me, moving to the damaged leg. "It's pretty severe, so I'd like to keep her confined to the stall for a few weeks."

I sighed, and then paused. Dulciate Delight eyed me as I brought up my second sight and looked her over. Unfortunately, whatever curse had been put on her wasn't similar to that put on Cinci, and I could find no residual curse slithering over her body. Cursing under my breath, I let the line go and put my hand on her neck, resigned to her fate.

"After that?" I asked, fearing the worst. A lame racehorse was no good to me.

The vet switched off his machine and stood up. "It depends. The injury is severe. I've never seen a horse this bad before. This could be career ending, but I'd rather not say that yet. After a few weeks, let's return to the subject and see if we can put her on an exercise program."

The vet moved about and picked up a leg wrap. He bent down and began winding the material around the filly's injured leg while I stroked her. Dulciate Delight leaned her head against me and I placed my hands on her cheeks. The poor creature knew she was seriously hurt, and I would almost bet that she needed physical comfort.

"Would it be safe to place one of the lead ponies in here with her?" I asked.

The vet stood and straightened his back. "I don't see why not. If she'd benefit from the social interaction, then it certainly couldn't hurt to try. Is she particularly fond of one of them?"

I shrugged, "There's only one way to find out."

I left the stall and headed outside. The lead ponies were in a different field than my racehorses as each and every one of them were low in status in a herd. The thoroughbreds often had little temper tantrums, and I didn't want one of my lead ponies to get hurt as a result. I walked the short distance down the path to a second gate and scanned the field. The horses were scattered across the green expanse, cropping the grass. I opened the gate and entered the field and a few heads shot up, ears pointing in my direction.

I closed the gate behind me, wise enough to know that if I left it open at least one of these guys would try to escape. It wasn't so much because they didn't want to be in the field. I just had enough mischievous horses that it was always smart to lock them in. I took a few steps away from the fence and smiled when a dun coloured mare kicked up her heels and raced to greet me.

When she reached me, her nose heading straight for my hands and then my pockets in search of a snack, I grabbed her halter and then patted her nose. "No snack until we get to the barn," I told her, leading her to the gate. As I opened it, I looked back to see three more horses heading toward me. Grinning, I quickly closed the gate before anyone could make a getaway and then turned the mare toward the barn.

I led the mare, who went by the name of Butter, down the path toward the barn. She nickered softly when she saw the building and I could hear responses from inside. Her hooves clopped against the wooden floor as I led her to the back of the barn where Dulciate Delight stood in the corner of her stall, keeping her weight off her damaged leg.

The two mares eyed each other for a second and then Butter moved forward, sticking her head in the stall, her ears forward. Dulciate Delight snorted and slowly moved forward, her own ears twitching, moving back and forth. The two horses pressed their noses together, nostril to nostril, and I eyed both of them for any sign of unease or bad behaviour.

When both horses moved back and neither flattened their ears, I sighed inwardly. Butter and Dulciate Delight would get along. I opened the stall and led the mare in. I removed her halter and then left the stall, hanging it from a hook next to the stall. Butter watched me, her dark brown eyes asking where her snack was. Shaking my head, I headed to the feed room and grabbed a couple of handfuls of treats before heading back and extending my hands to each mare.

The two horses happily munched on the treats and I made sure they were happy together before heading out of the barn.

I wasn't happy that my filly had been hurt, but there wasn't much more I could do than make her comfortable and help her heal. I headed down the path to my compound and quickly entered my outdoor office. The CD player beckoned me and I quickly put on some soft background music as I sat at my desk and thought.

I had sent two horses to the track this week and both had been targeted. And while Rachel was quick to accuse Ellasbeth, I wasn't so keen on that. She knew my horses were one of my favourite hobbies, but why would she risk the joint custody we had going? Unless she intended on ruining my name in Cincinnati to drive me to move out west, I couldn't see her doing it. And why would she focus on the horses when all she needed to do was find a way to stop my brimstone shipments?

Ellasbeth didn't make sense as a suspect.

I was fairly certain this had to do with racing, and nothing more, but it was still frustrating. I loved horseracing and I didn't want to give that up. I yawned and then looked at my watch. It was well past my noontime nap but I still had work to do. Frustrated, I decided to at least get a small rest in before heading to the meeting scheduled at three. I stood, quickly turned off the music and headed inside.

As I headed toward my apartments, I avoided being stopped by a few people. I was tired of being so busy and I vowed to get out and into Cincinnati after my three o'clock meeting. I padded down the stairs and across the hall into my apartments. The silence in my apartments was depressing. I missed the children. But this was a good compromise between myself and Ellasbeth as we both mulled over the idea of a political marriage.

The marriage would obviously only be political, as I had no urge to find myself in Ellasbeth's bed once again. But with a political marriage came a move and I refused to move out to the west coast. My businesses were established here and to be quite honest the taste of the lines out west left a bad taste in my mouth. Unfortunately, Ellasbeth wasn't very willing to leave her home and family, but the less contact I had with her the better.

I entered my bedroom and kicked off my shoes. I loosened my tie and then sprawled on the bed, intending to just rest for a few minutes. I closed my eyes, and tried my best not to think about Ellasbeth. But instead of her, my thoughts strayed to Rachel. I didn't think Rachel would have anything to do with me if I did go through with my marriage to Ellasbeth, and the idea that she'd not only disapprove but stop talking to me gave me an unwelcomed sensation.

My eyebrows furrowed. I wanted her to respect me. I'd been trying so hard to change her mind about what sort of man I was. And it seemed to have been working. My mind strayed to that evening in my spelling hut. Al's intrusion had been less than ideal, but the wine I had had definitely helped me express my feelings for her. I _knew_ she felt the same way, but she kept denying me and herself. Our kisses had been electric, and the feel of her hair under my fingertips had sent me reeling.

What I would give to be able to take her in my arms again. To feel her respond to my touch. Why couldn't she just admit that it had felt right? I turned onto my side and banished her from my thoughts. It took some time, but sleep finally came to me.

I parked my car – the Jaguar – outside the bank and loped inside. The meeting had finished early and I wanted to get the money for Rachel and head over to the church. I didn't know if she was home, but at the very least one of the pixies could let me in and I'd leave it on the table for her. Without Quen, I was free to roam the city as I wished, and I felt a sense of accomplishment as the bank teller counted the bills out for me.

I didn't normally do the menial tasks, but it felt good knowing I was capable of them. I usually didn't have the time, but it was the weekend and I didn't have much more to do for the day. I had already changed into more comfortable clothes, and I headed back out to the car with a smile on my face. The absence of the children was depressing, but the absence of Quen was positively uplifting at times.

I fired up the engine and backed out onto the street, heading toward Rachel's church. Traffic was light and the drive was uneventful. I pulled up to the curb and stretched out of the car, the envelope of cash in my right hand. I took the steps to the door quickly and raised my hand to knock. I paused, hearing a crash coming from inside the church.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rachel cried out, and something else seemed to explode – a plate by the sound of it. Concerned, I forgot about manners and grabbed the handle on the door. I pulled it open and stepped into the tiny, dark foyer. From my vantage point, Rachel's back was to me, but I could see Ivy glowering at the witch.

Ivy's eyes flickered over to me, and she swore. "Who the hell invited you?" she snapped, and I realized her eyes had gone completely black.


	8. Chapter 8

I was cleaning out Ivy's tub, scrubbing the soap scum the leftover bubbles had created, when I heard the church door bang open and then shut. I heard Jenks chirp his wings and then a long stream of pixies flew past the washroom door, heading for the kitchen, and the pixy hole in the window. Ivy was home and she was mad.

I finished scrubbing the tub and stood, stretching to get the kink out of my back. I dropped the sponge on the counter and headed into the hall, ready to face my roommate. As I moved into the sanctuary, I watched as she stalked across the large room, staring at the dirty dishes I had left on the coffee table.

"I leave for two days, and you turn this place into a pigsty?" she nearly hissed. I could smell the pheromones she was giving off, and she felt extremely good. She stood over the coffee table, glaring at me.

Something had gone wrong with Nina. "Ivy, what's wrong?" I asked, taking a few more steps into the sanctuary.

"Why would you think something's wrong?" she asked, and I winced. It was bad.

I folded my arms across my chest and cocked my hip, eyeing Ivy. I had to be in charge. I didn't want to be thrown against a wall again just because I was sending the wrong signals to an angry vampire. "What happened?"

Ivy was picking up the dirty dishes I had left out and looked at me, her eyes fully black. "Nina lost control."

"And?" I asked, not moving.

"They took her away from me," Ivy said, and I heard a thread of fear and sadness in her voice. If I could get her back from the edge of anger, we'd both be okay.

"Who took her?" I asked, losing my stance of dominance. I walked around her, giving her an escape route to her bedroom or the kitchen, should she feel the need to leave. It was better that she escaped further into the church rather than leave completely. I turned and watched her tense.

"The I.S.," she growled, her eyes flashing with warning. "They say she's no longer safe for society and have locked her up." She closed her eyes, and I could see her trying to contain the emotions, try to regain control. But the glass in her tight grip cracked, and hissing, she threw it against the wall where it exploded.

"Ivy, it's okay," I started. "Once she gets the proper care she needs, they'll let her out again. You can still help her."

"No, I'm not allowed to see her!" Ivy cried out, and she lifted the plate off the table, tensing as she took aim.

"What the hell are you doing?" I cried out, not wanting another dish to break. It had belonged to my mother. She had given me her old china set when she had moved out west to be with Takata. Ivy took aim and threw it, sending it toward the same wall where the glass had crashed.

It exploded, pieces flying everywhere, but I continued to stare at Ivy, wanting to calm her down. But like most of my plans, that was cut short as the church door burst open behind me. Ivy's eyes flicked from me to the person behind me, and she scowled. "Who the hell invited you?" she swore, and I whirled around to see Trent standing there, a crumpled envelope in his hand and his green eyes wild.

"Leave Rachel alone," he growled, and the envelope dropped to the floor, forgotten, as his hands moved up and he tapped a line.

"Trent, don't!" I cried out, but he already had a ball of energy in his hands. Trent, quick to act but slow to think, threw the energy at Ivy and I watched it hit her in the stomach, sending her crashing into the couch. For a second, she seemed to want to scramble up and attack Trent, but then she slumped down as the magic finally hit her.

"You ass!" I hissed at Trent, running to Ivy's side to make sure she was breathing. I heaved a sigh of relief when I found her breathing regularly.

I stood and faced Trent, pissed. Sure, he had solved my problem quicker than my own course of action, but it was rude to hit people with energy just because they were angry. "Why did you do that?" I asked.

Trent had blanched, and I felt a satisfying ping run through me, knowing I scared him. "She wasn't attacking you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course not! She was just taking her frustration out on my good dishes." I looked at the pieces of china littering the floor. I no longer had a complete set. "How long is she going to be out?" I asked, turning back to Trent.

Trent shrugged, "I expect only a few minutes. But she'll be under control when she comes round, I think."

I nodded, "There is that, I guess."

I turned away from Trent, heading for the kitchen and the broom and dustpan we kept there. I needed to sweep up the glass before the cat or one of the pixy children hurt themselves. I also needed to get away from Trent for a moment before I slugged him. Unfortunately, he followed.

"I admit I acted rashly," he said, his boots thunking on the floor.

"You think?" I said sarcastically, and I just knew he was scowling at my back.

"I thought she was going to attack you," Trent said, his lame excuse evident even to himself.

I grabbed the broom and turned to face him. "Trent, I can take Ivy. I don't need your help."

Trent's eyes flashed at me, and it was clear I had annoyed him. "Well excuse me for caring about your wellbeing," he spat at me, and then his shoulders slumped. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have knocked out my roommate," I said, turning and heading back to the sanctuary.

Sometimes Trent just frustrated me beyond belief. There were other times when his good traits shined through, and I liked the man I saw. But if he continued to see me as a damsel in distress, he had another thing coming. While he had saved my butt on a few occasions, I could save his, too. And I had proven it to him. On more than one occasion. The man needed to assess situations before he dove in, and he clearly lacked the finesse to do so. In some ways, he reminded me of me – when I was younger.

I was sweeping up the shards of glass and china when Ivy began to stir and Trent returned to the sanctuary. He seemed to have gotten control of himself and from the quick glance I cast his way, no emotions showed on his face. Of course not. Another of his vices: not allowing others to see how he truly felt.

I stooped down to sweep the glass into the dustpan and looked up to find Ivy sitting forward, her hand on her forehead like she had a headache. Her eyes were a chocolate brown. She looked at me, and then to Trent. "What happened?" she asked, her voice strained.

I glanced over at Trent to see him shuffle his feet but finally meet Ivy's gaze. "I acted out of turn and hit you with some ley line energy. You were throwing things and I didn't realize Rachel had everything under control. I apologize, Ivy."

You could take the man out of the business suit, but you couldn't take the business out of the man. Ivy looked at me and I shrugged, "You _were_ smashing perfectly good fine china."

Two red spots appeared high on Ivy's cheeks, and she looked at me, her brown eyes liquid with remorse. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and I knew she was on the brink of breaking down.

I stood, dustpan in hand. "It'll be okay," I told her, and she nodded feebly.

I turned to Trent. "Why don't we go outside? I have some gardening to do anyway. And I'm assuming you came here to talk about something?"

Trent's eyebrows shot up as he patted his pockets. I finally realized he had changed from his business suit and was wearing jeans. A very nice, most probably expensive, pair of jeans. Trent's eyes darted around the sanctuary until he spotted the envelope he had dropped and I watched as he walked over and bent down to get it. Yes, a _very_ nice pair of jeans.

Trent stood up, and I flushed as he caught my gaze. I could hear Ivy inhale sharply behind me, and I quickly made a beeline for the kitchen. Trent followed behind me as I dropped the broken shards of glass into the bin, slipped on my gardening shoes and walked out the back door. The moment I heard it shut behind Trent I turned on him. "What do you want?"

He took an unsteady step back, and then pushed the envelope toward me. "I brought you the money for betting," he said, shutting my anger down completely.

Hesitantly, I took the envelope from him, careful to not let our fingers brush. If they did, I didn't know what would happen next, and I wanted to know precisely where we were going. The wad of cash inside was quite thick. I frowned and put it in my back pocket. "I thought you were going to send someone."

Trent shrugged and his hands went to his hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes. The motion caught my attention and my gaze lingered on his ears, as I remembered the feel of the silky strands beneath my fingertips. The last time I had had my hands in his hair had been a few months before, and that combined with his body pressed against mine had left me reeling. I blinked to supress the memory, not wanting Trent to know that he was getting to me.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

"I had the rest of the day free," Trent said. "I wanted to get out of the house. It's quiet there."

I snorted, "Well, it's hardly ever quiet here, so I guess you came to the right place."

As if to prove my point, two pixies flew by, one screaming for Jenks while the other threw seeds at her. We both watched the progress, and when I looked back at Trent, I found amusement in his eyes. He grew serious after a moment though. "I really am sorry about hitting Ivy."

I nodded, accepting his apology, as I moved toward the garden. I really did need to get some weeding done in the garden, and now was better than never. I got down on my knees and began to pull the weeds from between my herbs.

Trent sat down at the picnic table and watched me work. We were silent for a time and I was surprised to find the silence comforting. It was possible to be in Trent's company and not say a word. And yet his presence wasn't unwanted any longer. I wondered if he ever stopped to garden, but I suspected it wasn't one of his interests.

Trent was the first to speak. "I don't expect you to go to the track too early," he told me. "I understand you'll want to keep your regular sleep schedule."

I glanced over at him as I pulled a particularly large piece of grass from the ground. "Why thank you, Trent. I didn't know you cared," I said, the sarcasm still there, despite my enjoying the moment.

I heard him sigh. "Can we stop fighting?" he asked.

"I'm not fighting," I said defensively, as I moved down the row.

"I just want us to get along," Trent said, a note of plea in his voice. I looked up to find he had stood up and come closer to me, his green eyes imploring. God, he looked good in those jeans. It didn't help that the setting sun glinted off his hair.

Why did I snap so often around him? I had to admit to myself that I was attracted to him. And I knew he was interested in me. But there was no point in pursuing any sort of relationship outside of business, and I didn't want to cross that line. I had to admit that perhaps my attitude had more to do with keeping my distance than any real annoyance for the man. I sighed. "I'm sorry, Trent. I don't mean to be rude."

There was a clatter of wings as Jenks landed on Trent's shoulder. "No, she doesn't mean to. She just _is._"

I glared at the little pixy and he gestured rudely at me before laughing. "I can tell when I'm not wanted," he said, and then took off. "I'll leave you alone with your cookie maker, Rache."

Jenks flew off, a trail of children following him. Giving up on my gardening, I stood up and moved back onto the grass. Trent moved closer to me and I tensed.

I sensed his growing agitation, but I knew I couldn't make him feel at ease. Given half a chance, he'd somehow convince me to kiss him again, and I was sure I'd regret it in the long run. I looked up into his eyes and noticed how intensely he was staring at me. My heart gave an extra thump and I wondered if I could say no if he did want to kiss me.

"All I'm asking is to get along, Rachel," he said. "Nothing more."

I nodded silently, knowing he was lying through his teeth. No one looked at me like that and only wanted to get along. In fact, I could barely remember the last time someone _had _looked at me like I was the most interesting thing in the world. "I can try that," I said quietly, afraid my voice would squeak if I spoke any louder.

Trent continued to stare at me, and his hand reached up to push a stray curl of my hair away from my eyes. "Alright. I can live with that. Give me a call tomorrow after your first day as a betting woman, will you?" he asked, finally stepping back.

My shoulders relaxed, as the threat of his closeness eased. "Sure."

"And if you need more money, just let me know, alright?"

I nodded.

Trent looked at his watch and straightened his shoulders. "I should probably head back. Quen will probably be giving me a call with an update on how the girls are doing." He turned to head for the gate, then stopped and looked back. "Thank you, Rachel. I really do appreciate your help."

I nodded again, still not able to speak. I watched as he let himself out and then slumped down on the picnic table. I hadn't wanted him to kiss me, but now that he was gone, I really wished he had.


	9. Chapter 9

**Rachel POV**

I yawned and clutched my coffee tighter as I watched the horses surge forward from the gate. Each animal seemed to stretch out as close to the ground as it could, their legs pounding into the dirt track and throwing them forward another stride. From my vantage point at the top of the bleachers, I could see the horses as well as everyone watching below me.

People from all walks of life were sitting in these bleachers, and so I didn't stand out wearing my leather. After yesterday, I was intent on not ruining another good set of clothing. This was the first race since I had arrived at the track at eleven, and more and more people were sliding into the seats below me as the morning progressed.

You could tell the difference between those that were coming for fun and those that were desperate for a break. Those that held their tiny slips of paper in a death grip often wore drab clothing and as I watched on particular man, he leaned forward in his seat, staring intently at the track and muttering to himself.

At the very least, Trent was giving me a very interesting day job, and if I couldn't find his attackers, perhaps I'd find someone else up to mischief on the track. I'm sure the owners would appreciate my taking down a few people trying to mess with the system.

I glanced back up to watch the horses cross the finish line. I hadn't bet during this first race, but I would for the next. There was a lot of free time between races, and I was trying to learn how everything worked before making a decision. Trent may have donated the money for the task, but if I could make a few dollars off of it, where was the harm in that?

The man below me that had been watching the horses through his paper to the ground and stormed off the bleachers, heading, no doubt, to bet on another horse. I waited a moment, then picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I headed down the bleachers, going inside to find the line for betting.

This was my first time betting on horses, and I was slightly nervous it would show. Thankfully no one would notice. I had spent the evening prepping a doppelganger curse, and after some moral hemming and hawing I had implemented it this morning. I was slightly pudgy with stringy brown hair and a nose that was too large for my face.

When I had looked in the mirror after taking on the curse I had shuddered. I certainly couldn't look good on anybody's arm looking like this. Spotting the betting booths, I got in line behind the man I had been watching and pulled a programme from my bag. I studied it, trying to figure out the odds on all of the horses in the next race.

We slowly shuffled forward in line and when I got to a booth I pointed at the favourite horse and placed down a hundred dollars. I would only make a few hundred if the horse won, but I thought it was better if I betted on the favourite the first few times as I got to know the sport better. Taking my ticket, I wandered back out into the sunlight and squinted out at the track, watching the horses parade around and warm up.

I made my way back up to my spot and scanned the growing crowd of people. Every time I spotted a fair head, I stopped to watch, but no one seemed to be out to sabotage any of the horses that were beginning to line up at the gate.

I was concentrating on the horses when someone sat down next to me. The sound of his expensive business suit made me pause, and I looked over to see Trent sitting beside me, a small smile on his face. "What are you doing here?" I asked, before I could even wonder how he knew it was me.

"I cancelled some meetings," he said.

I suddenly realized that I was an ugly, frumpy lady, and my cheeks warmed. I hadn't wanted Trent to see me like this. "How did you know it was me?" I asked.

Trent shrugged, "You're at a high vantage point so you can see more than just the horses. And you're attention keeps going everywhere. It was either you or some other stalker."

I chuckled, and turned my attention back to the horses. "So why are you here?" I asked. I was by myself today, so I was actually happy for the company. Jenks was home teaching some of his older children the best way to find their own gardens. It wasn't something either of us was especially excited about, but it was inevitable that his children would move on.

"I thought I'd help you with the betting. I know most people tend to bet on the favourite, but sometimes you're further ahead to watch the parade beforehand and determine which horse seems freshest and ready for the race." Trent's arm brushed against mine as he pointed out to the track, toward a horse that was balking at the gate. "He's the favourite, but he's really not in the mood, and he's wasting his energy on fighting rather than on the race. He won't win today."

"Oh," I said, disappointed. I had been hoping to make some money today, and so far, I wasn't getting off to a good start.

Trent nudged me with his shoulder, "You bet on him, didn't you?"

"Yes," I said grudgingly.

Trent shrugged, "It's your first time. I don't blame you. Next time, I want you to watch the horses before you make your decision, though."

As Trent predicted the favourite didn't win the race, and soon after the track was cleared, he grabbed me by the hand and dragged me down the bleachers. "I want you to watch each horse," he told me, as we reached the rail and stared out at the track as a few of the horses began to move out onto the packed dirt.

As each horse warmed up, he pointed out their flaws, showing me which ones were too nervous, and those that he thought had a shot. By the time the last horse came onto the track, I knew which horse I wanted to bet on and when I told him, Trent grinned at me, happy with my choice.

I put my hundred dollars down on the horse while Trent went back up to my spot on the bleachers. With ticket in hand, I headed back up the bleachers, scanning the faces as I went. It didn't hurt to watch them in case someone was out to hurt Trent as well as his horses. Nothing caught my eye, and I sat down next to Trent just as the horses surged from the gate.

Trent spent the rest of the afternoon with me, helping me learn about the horses. He was well-schooled in the sport, which wasn't surprising. But I was surprised to find that he could choose the winner perfectly. I hadn't agreed with him every time, but I was glad he was giving me some insight into the sport. It was as if he wanted me to win.

Did he expect me to hand over my winnings?

We didn't discuss that and when I noticed that he seemed to be wilting in the heat, I suggested that we both called it a day. He had missed his noon hour nap, but I knew he was probably used to it because of his meetings. All the same, I didn't like seeing him so tired, so I convinced him to head back to his car and I followed, glad to be going home.

As we reached his car, which was parked closer with a special pass dangling from the rear-view mirror. I stopped and faced him, feeling awkward in my frumpy clothes. "Thanks for showing me the ropes," I said to him.

"Not a problem. It was nice to spend the day at the track, actually. I haven't done that in a long time." Trent rocked back on his heels, and seemed to consider something. He shook his head and I knew that I wouldn't find out what he'd be thinking – at least, not today. I had really enjoyed the time with Trent. He had let his guard down, and I had watched him stare intently at the track as the underdog that he had picked flew ahead of the pack of horses to win.

I had seen a new side of him, and I liked what I saw. He really did enjoy the sport, even if I questioned how he trained his horses. He knew better than I did what was required to win races.

"Well, I'll come back tomorrow," I said, "Maybe I'll find something suspicious."

Trent smiled. "Don't forget to call me," he said, and I watched as he unlocked his car and got in. Before he drove away, he opened his window and leaned out. "And Rachel, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"I won't," I promised, and watched as he left. I trudged across the parking lot to my own car and hopped in. Despite sitting around for most of the day, I was beat, and I looked forward to heading home and falling on the couch with some takeout. I decided I'd pick up some Chinese before I headed home. Ivy was still in a mood, and I hoped to make her feel a bit better. Living with a cranky vampire was never fun.

* * *

**Sorry for such a short and late response. I've been a bit busy. **

**On the bright side, I got to spend some time with horses yesterday, although certainly not racehorses. My legs are complaining enough that you'd think I had been on a thoroughbred though. ;)**

**More chapters to come! :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Trent POV**

I was out at the barn checking on Dulciate Delight when my phone rang. I pulled the slim cell phone from my pocket and checked the caller ID. Flipping it open, I said quietly, "Quen."

Dulciate Delight's ears twitched my way, but she continued to rest next to Butter, both of them enjoying the late evening light trickling in through the small window next to the stall.

"Sa'han," Quen's voice came out of the phone as I moved away from Dulciate's stall and headed toward another section of the barn. "I think I should come home early," my security officer told me. "Ellasbeth is not getting along well with the children, and her fits of anger bother me. I don't want the children growing up around that."

I sighed and brought my hand to my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. This would never work if Ellasbeth didn't stop demanding everything to go her way. I stopped walking when I reached Tulpa's door and I peeked into the stall to see the horse sleeping near the back. "Quen, I don't think it would be wise for the children to come back just yet. The attacks are still going on and I'd rather sort out this problem before it escalates. I hate to say it, but they're probably safer with Ellasbeth than here."

I heard Quen sigh in frustration, as I leaned over the stall door, trying to wake Tulpa up. The horse's ears flicked in my direction, but he refused to turn and look at me. "Sa'han, this situation has become frustrating." Quen said, and I knew it was more for him than for the children that he wanted to come home.

I had no doubt that Ellasbeth and her family were giving Quen a hard time, but there was nothing I could do about it. Quen wasn't pure blooded, and while Ellasbeth couldn't claim it either, she still gave him a hard time. Money can change a person, even their beliefs.

"I understand, Quen, but please let me resolve this issue before coming back." I said, "And Ellasbeth and I _do_ have an agreement. To breach it may ruin all of our other plans."

Quen's silence was his affirmation that he understood, and I quickly said goodbye and hung the phone up.

"Tulpa," I said, my eyes on the dark horse in the shadows. Tulpa snorted and turned so that I had a lovely view of his rump. Grabbing his halter from the hook next to the stall, I slipped inside and made my way through the hay to stand at his head. "You can ignore me all you want," I chastised the horse as I slipped the halter over his nose. "But we're going for a ride."

Once I had the halter fastened, I pulled Tulpa around. He was resistant at first, but finally stepped out of the stall, accepting the fact that he wouldn't be able to continue his nap. I cross-tied him and quickly went about grooming him. Tulpa loved being curry combed and he stood peacefully through it, enjoying the massaging circles I rubbed into his muscles. But eventually, even that was over, and I tacked him up and led him outside.

Jumping in the saddle, I pointed the horse in the direction of the setting sun and I eased him into a walk, letting him stretch his legs. Once I was sure he was warmed up, I pushed him into a trot, and I stretched my own legs as I posted, moving with Tulpa's smooth gait.

When there was nothing but the rolling land around me and the sound of Tulpa's easy breathing, I gave him his head and urged him into a loping canter. The sound of the wind helped me escape my thoughts, and I continued to push the horse, urging him toward the trees. Tulpa was used to the directions I would turn him and he kept moving forward, his ears moving back and forth in case I gave him a voice command.

We entered the tree line at a canter, but quickly slowed down to a trot as Tulpa began to pick his way through the undergrowth. We had both been in these woods enough times to know our way around, but the terrain often changed. I could keep pixies and fairies off my land, but it was a bit harder to do with gophers and squirrels.

Eventually, Tulpa slowed to awalkt, and we wandered through the trees. Every so often, the sound of bird wings interrupted the quiet, and I'd watch as whatever creature we had scared fly away. Between the problems at the racetrack and Ellasbeth's tantrums, I was not having a very good week at all. My mind strayed to the idea that my horses were in danger, and Tulpa's ears swivelled back toward me as he felt my unease.

Tulpa had never been a racehorse, and he was much too old to go to the track now, so logically, I knew he was in no danger. But something inside me stirred with worry at the thought that someone might try to harm my familiar. I kept telling Rachel that the attacks were on a business level, but were they really? No other horses seemed to be hurt, and in fact, Rachel had not seen any evidence of foul play at all at the track today.

Why were they only after me? Why my horses? My horses were good, true, but we weren't _that_ good that we were the only ones being targeted.

I was startled out of my reverie when Tulpa came to an abrupt halt, his whole body tensing. I leaned forward and looked over his ears to see the fox frozen in the middle of the path. The little red animal stared up at us with startled, yet weary eyes. We had enough of them on the property, and Tulpa was accustomed to giving chase when one was spotted.

I watched the creature, my hands tight on the reins so the horse wouldn't sprint after it. After a few moments, I watched the fox slink into the undergrowth. Tulpa moved his weight in the direction the animal had gone, but I kept him in check, not wanting to chase through the woods. Without the dogs, it was hopeless.

Deciding it was time to head back anyway, I turned Tulpa in the opposite direction, heading through the already darkening trees toward the fields. We hit open ground within minutes, and I gave Tulpa his head, letting him take a leisurely pace as we headed back toward the barn. The ride had been short, but it had been just what I needed. Spending time with Tulpa was therapeutic.

When Tulpa caught sight of the barn in the fading light, he broke into an easy canter, and we covered the distance in moments before I had to pull him up. Otherwise, I'd be riding through the barn, and I didn't think the stable manager would be very pleased if I did that. I quickly slid from the saddle and led Tulpa back into the barn. I removed the tack and quickly brought the saddle and bridle back to the tack room. On my way out, I grabbed a handful of grain and went back to Tulpa's stall and he greeted me with a friendly whinny as he lipped the treat from my palm.

I scratched him behind the ears and when he moved away I watched him eat some hay before I finally decided to go inside. I was reluctant to leave the barn; the sounds and smells were calming my nerves, and I knew that once I was back inside the house, all of my problems would come back to the forefront.

I was tempted to just get in the car and go for a drive, but I knew I'd end up on Rachel's doorstep again, and I was certain she was getting tired of seeing me. I, on the other hand, was becoming more frustrated with our platonic relationship. I knew she was attracted to me – so why was she holding back? I could tell by her body language that she didn't want me to touch her, but judging by the looks she kept giving me, I knew otherwise.

Hiring her to find out why my horses were being attacked wasn't _just_ about the horses. I could tell Jenks knew… but did she? And what of it? I wanted to speak with Jenks but I couldn't unless she wasn't with him. Deciding to visit the church the following day while she was at the track, I left the barn, heading for the compound. I would get a few files finished this evening so that I would have some time tomorrow afternoon. I knew Jenks didn't seem to mind the idea of Rachel and I together, and I was hoping he would be willing to talk to me about how I could pursue the witch.

Something inside me was gnawing to get out, and it was screaming her name.

**Short, I know. :( **


	11. Chapter 11

**Rachel POV**

Ivy was sulking in my passenger seat. I had somehow convinced her to come to the track with me, but she wasn't dealing well with the early hour. We were almost to the track though, and she'd be able to get a coffee once we were inside.

"Why did I let you convince me to come?" Ivy asked, leaning her head against the window. Ivy was wearing all black and I wondered if it was wise, considering it was going to be pretty hot today.

"Because it's an easy way to make cash if you know what you're doing," I said. "Plus, sitting by myself all day will get pretty boring. I might go play the slot machines, and that's not what Trent gave me money for."

"Trent gave you money for this?" she asked, eyeing me.

I shrugged, "He doesn't have the time to come down here himself, and he really wants to know if he's the only one targeted. And he'd also like us to catch the culprits. I'm not complaining. I've got a wad of cash to spend, and I intend on keeping any winnings."

Ivy snorted, "Well, good."

We were silent for some time, and I soon took the turn off to drive up the long drive to the track. The parking lot wasn't very full, and I managed to pull up in a spot relatively close. I led Ivy into the building next to the track where she made a beeline for the coffee stand. Yawning myself, I followed. The coffee here wasn't too bad, and it would be nice to get a little kick before I started people watching.

It didn't take us long to get the coffee and find a good spot in the bleachers, and soon I was pointing out some of the things I had learned sitting next to Trent the day before. Sitting with Ivy was a bit different. She wasn't in a very good mood and I had been hoping that by dragging her out here, I could alleviate some of the worry she had on her shoulders.

Unfortunately, what happened to Nina was still weighing heavily on Ivy's mind, and I was slowly realizing just how much the girl meant to Ivy. It was nice that Ivy had moved on and found someone who could seek love and common ground with her, but it felt odd knowing that Ivy was so attached to the young vamp. Could I ever find a relationship that had so much give and take as what Ivy seemed to have found?

I felt a pang of loneliness and then the image of Trent came to mind. We both had a lot to give, but I wasn't right for him. He had so many responsibilities and I was simply a liability in the end. I worked best as a co-worker. At this point, I was even willing to admit that I didn't care about what he'd done in the past. He was a murderer, no doubt about it, but he had his reasons, I could see them clearly now. But I didn't belong in his world.

Sadly, I could think of no one else who could rival what Ivy and Nina seemed to have.

I leaned against Ivy, pointing at the gate where the horses were lined up. "Watch number 3. I bet on her and I think she's a winner. She seemed excited for the race, but not overly strung out.

The bell went off, the gates were thrown open, and the horses surged forward in a giant mass. Within moments though, the horses had strung out along the inner fence. I had spent a few moments the night before researching the sport and had come to the conclusion that horse racing was different depending on the country you were in. American horse racing was probably the most recognized because of the media, so it was easy to look a few things up.

I was sitting on the edge of my seat, watching the horses take the curve in the track. Number 3, Too Hot for Cincinatti, was in the middle of the pack, but slowly making her way to the front. It would be over in a matter of moments, and I didn't want to miss watching the finish.

Even from where we were, I could hear the pounding of the hooves on the dirt track, and the sound lifted through me. When Too Hot moved into second place, I was barely holding onto the seat, excited at the prospect of winning. I broke into a grin as I watched her nose past the first place horse, winning the race with seconds to spare. Grinning, I turned to Ivy to see she wasn't even watching the track.

I brought her to the track to watch the horses, and there she was, staring moodily down into the bleachers, her brown eyes tracking someone. I turned and followed her gaze, my own eyes lighting on a fair haired man wandering an aisle. He kept looking out at the track and then back down at the schedule he had in his hands.

I couldn't tell if he was an elf from here, but he certainly looked suspicious. My excitement faded as adrenaline kicked in at the thought of chasing him down. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" I asked Ivy.

"The man who doesn't belong? I sure do," she said, standing up from her seat and stretching.

I stood as well, cramming my winning paper in my back pocket so I wouldn't lose it. I followed Ivy as she moved down the stairs, heading toward the end of the aisle the man was walking along. His baby fine blonde hair reminded me of Trent, and I instinctively knew that if I got close to him, he'd smell like cinnamon and wine. When he lifted his own gaze toward Ivy, recognition hit as I realized he was the man who had chased me down on the track.

Thankfully he didn't recognize me. My awkward appearance and frumpy clothes worked perfectly. I may have moved the same, but I looked nothing like myself.

"Excuse me!" Ivy called as she caught the man's eye.

The man raised an eyebrow at her as she came closer. "I was hoping you knew more about horses than I did," she said, laughing a bit. "My friend dragged me here and we were hoping to see certain horses, but I can't recognize one from the other," she said, waving her hand flippantly toward the track.

I grew uneasy as I watched the elf tense up, unsure if he should trust Ivy. But she had gotten closer to him than I had a few days before, and I knew we'd be able to grab him before he tried to run. "What horse are you looking for?" he asked.

"I'm looking for the horse Trent Kalamack has in the race," Ivy said. I was glad she spoke, as I didn't trust him to not recognize my voice.

But the moment Ivy had said Trent's name, the man looked at her suspiciously, and began to back up. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and I pushed past Ivy.

"Why else would you be here?" I asked, reaching into my bag for my handcuffs.

The man's eyes followed my reach and he swore and turned to race down the aisle. Ivy jumped ahead of me and the chase was over in mere seconds, as she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and brought him down in a chokehold. The people around us stared in disgust and moved away, but interestingly, no one seemed to call for security.

As Ivy dragged the man out of the aisle, she looked at me. "What now?" she asked.

"Well, he's definitely the guy," I said. "I guess we bring him to Trent's compound?"

Ivy nodded. "Good plan. I'll bring him to the car."

She paused, looking at me. "Go get your winning and I'll meet you there.

It took me a few minutes to get to the front of the line, but eventually I got my money and headed out to the parking lot to find Ivy sitting in the front seat with no prisoner to be found. I slid into the driver's seat and looked over at her. "Ivy…" I said, and she smiled at me.

"He's in the trunk," she said, and I shook my head, smiling all the same. I started the car and backed out of the spot. I had been hoping to talk to Ivy, cheer her up, but I suspected I wouldn't be getting to it today. I hoped she would try to make contact with Nina. Being locked up by the I.S. couldn't possibly be fun, and I knew Nina would appreciate a visit.

The drive through Cincinnati was short and when we arrived at the gate to Trent's compound, I slipped out of the car to hear thumping coming from the trunk. I had made sure to make the ride good and bumpy.

I entered the gate house, "I've got someone Trent is going to want to question," I told the guard on duty.

The guard looked at me in surprise, not recognizing me. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but Mr. Kalamack is currently in meetings."

"Oh, right," I muttered to myself and then invoked the curse to set me back to my own body. There were a few gasps in the room and I raised an eyebrow at the guard. "How about now?" I asked.

The guard stuttered, "I – I'm sorry, Ms. Morgan. He really is busy," he said, apologetically. "In fact, he's not ever here."

Sighing in frustration, I turned back to the door. "Well, at the very least, can someone come get the perp out of my trunk?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Trent POV**

The church's driveway was decidedly empty as I pulled my Jaguar into it. Rachel was gone, but I did notice Ivy's motorcycle nestled against the garage wall. I wondered if she was here, but I hoped to stay out of the church completely.

The moment I was out of the car, I was surrounded by pixy girls, the breeze from their wings making my hair float around my head for a moment. Two of them landed on my shoulders, and I smiled as I headed toward the back gate. "I don't suppose your father is home?" I asked, and after a chorus of acknowledgements, the group took off, a cloud of iridescent wings floating over the gate and into the backyard.

Jenks met me at the gate, standing on top of the locking mechanism. "Rachel's not here," Jenks told me.

"I know," I said. "I wanted to talk with you."

A burst of dust sifted from his wings, and he lifted off from the lock so that I could open the gate and go into the privacy of the backyard. "Want to talk security?" he asked.

I crossed the yard, heading for the picnic table. "Not exactly," I said, unsure how to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on me the past few days.

"Then what's going on?" Jenks asked. I noticed that when Rachel wasn't around, Jenks sent less insults my way. I knew he was doing it for her benefit, because we got along great. I just didn't understand what his motives were for the jabs. I suspected he just didn't want her to know he liked me, but I didn't know with the pixy.

"Well, a few things," I hedged, sitting down on the top of the picnic table and looking out over the witch's garden that the pixies took care of. I knew Rachel tried to spend time helping, but the plants flourished because the pixies took meticulous care of them.

"Like what?" Jenks asked, landing on my knee.

I focused on the little man before me, "Well, it has something to do with Rachel."

Jenks snorted, "Obviously. Why else would you show up when you know she's not here?"

"Good point," I replied.

"So what about her?" Jenks asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Feeling uncomfortable, I looked away, unsure how to proceed. I wanted to bring the topic up with Jenks, but now that I was here, I was finding it increasingly difficult to admit my feelings for the witch. Sure, I wanted her to admit that she had feelings for me, but was it easy to admit the same to a third party?

Deciding my trip to the church would have been pointless otherwise, I started. "I don't know if you're aware, but I…" I trailed off, knowing I wasn't wording it properly. "Rachel is…" Still not right.

"You want to get in Rachel's pants." Jenks said matter-of-factly from my knee, a tiny eyebrow raised.

I grimaced, but could also feel my neck warming. "Well, I wouldn't put it that way," I said.

Jenks laughed, "You think I don't know? You think Ivy doesn't know? Tink's little red panties, Trent! We _all_ know! We're ignoring it because Rachel's still fighting her own ideals."

"So I'd be an issue if she pursued me?" I asked carefully.

Jenks shrugged his shoulders, "If you had asked me that a few years ago, yes, I'd think you were an issue. Rachel does like a guy with a bad streak but you were a bit too much."

I scowled, not liking the fact that he was completely correct.

"However," the pixy continued, "You've changed a lot in the past year or so, mostly thanks to Rachel, I think. If she were to pursue you now?" Jenks looked me in the eye and shrugged. "You're not so bad anymore. We get along. And I know that if you hurt her you know the consequences." Jenks' hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

I smiled wryly, "That I know for sure, Jenks."

Jenks nodded his head, satisfied that he had warned me. "So how do I convince her to want to pursue something?" I asked, hating that I had to ask.

"You can't," Jenks said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, a thread of fear insinuating itself into my thoughts.

"She's convinced that you two aren't a match. Trust me, Trent. She really is interested in you, but she's denying it because you have too many responsibilities."

"Because I have too many responsibilities?"

Jenks nodded. "Children, your agreement with Ellasbeth, saving your race. She doesn't see herself fitting into all of that."

"What does it matter if she fits or not? She has a spot by my side whether the rest of the world approves or not," I said, agitated. She was avoiding looking me in the eyes because she thought I'd put her beneath the rest of my priorities? Did she think so lowly of me?

"I don't think that's the point, Trent. She's not doing this to avoid getting hurt. She's doing it to avoid hurting you." Jenks said, and he took off from my knee. He hovered at eye level, looking at me. "If you want her, you need to prove to her that you don't care what happens. She won't come to you, Trent. You have to go to her."

"She won't come to me," I said, feeling the truth in the phrase. I had to make more than just a few moves. I had to demand that she acknowledge her feelings. I had to show her that I wanted her more than I wanted most other things. That couldn't be too hard. In fact, the first step would be to do something I knew she wanted me to do anyway.

I jumped off the picnic table, intent on calling Quen as soon as I was home. "Thanks for the talk, Jenks," I said, grateful that the little man had been able to see through my act.

"Is that all you wanted to discuss?" he asked, trying to be the proper host.

"Yes. And you've really helped me out," I said as I walked toward the gate, Jenks flying backwards in front of me. "I've got some thinking to do now."

Jenks watched me for a minute, and then landed on the gate. "So, you're going to do what I think you're going to do, aren't you?"

I grinned at him. "Perhaps."

"Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jenks said, then took off from the gate so I could open it.

"What does that entail?" I asked, sliding through and shutting it behind me.

"Not much. I'd do it all, from all angles," he said, and I watched him thrust his little hips. I rolled my eyes. "Well, thus ends the serious conversation," I said, grinning. "See you later, Jenks."

"Not if I see you first, cookie farts." Jenks said in farewell, and then flew off into the backyard.

Shaking my head and grinning, I headed for the car. As I slipped into the driver's seat my cellphone started vibrating. Expecting it to be Quen calling again, I pulled it out and checked the Caller ID. Surprised that the front gate security would be calling, I quickly clicked the phone on and grew serious. "Kalamack," I said.

"Sah'an, Ms. Morgan wants to see you."

Confused, I turned the car on, switched the phone to speaker and pulled out of Rachel's driveway. "She wants to see me? I thought she was at the track today."

"She was, Sah'an. And she's brought in the man who attacked her the other day."

"She did, did she?" I asked, my voice growing lower as I thought about what I'd do to the man when I got a hold of him. Not only was he hurting my horses, but he had tried to seriously hurt Rachel as well. The man would pay. "I'll be there shortly. Make sure no one leaves."

"Yes, Sah'an," the security guard said, and I turned the phone off.

I was going to find out who was attacking me, and I was going to find out now.


	13. Chapter 13

Ivy was pacing back and forth while I sat in one of the chairs in the waiting area. The security guard had informed us that Trent was on his way, but Ivy was getting on my nerves. It's not like the perp was going to get away, so why bother with the nervous antics? But once Ivy got going, there was really nothing I could do but wait her out. I bobbed my foot up and down and looked at the clock on the wall. Where was Trent that it was taking this long to get here?

I was just about to get up and ask the security guard when there was a flurry of activity behind the desk and Trent walked in through the door on the opposite end of the building. He was looking good in a pair of jeans and a sweater that looked perfectly soft and yet also clung to the lines of his toned upper body. His hair was a bit wind-blown and I suspected he had had the windows down in his car. It was a beautiful day, and I could hardly blame him.

He was quickly let into the middle section where the security guards were all devotedly pounding away at keyboards or filing away papers. The difference between the relaxed atmosphere a few minutes before and now was quite obvious. Trent expected work to be done, and he expected it to be done now. The guards may be proficient at their jobs, but they knew when to slack off and when not to.

The head guard motioned for Trent to follow him to the detainment room. Trent caught my eye and motioned for me to come as well. I got into step behind him, with Ivy close on my heels. The guards had placed the man in a small room with a table and three chairs. They had also confiscated all of his personal effects and we had come to learn that the man went by Jared.

So far, Jared hadn't said a word.

The moment that Trent walked into that room though, Jared's demeanour went from passive resistance to open hostility. Trent chose to stand, but stayed close to the table, looking down at the stockier man. The guards had cuffed Jared to the table, and he was forced to look up at Trent, leaving him in a submissive position. I could tell he didn't like it.

The guard came over and handed Trent a file, which he quickly flipped through before turning his green gaze on the man before him. "Jared Bierworth," he said. "I know your father."

The man shrugged, scowling up at Trent. "And what of it?"

Trent shrugged, and turned away from the elf. "I wonder what he'd think of your actions. We have a very good working relationship, you see. To think he'd send you to ruin it is preposterous."

"You're right," the man said grudgingly, "So why don't we leave him out of this?"

Trent turned back, tapping the file against the side of his leg. "I'd like to, but this is a problem, Jared. If he didn't send you, then he needs to know the things you've been doing lately."

Jared shuffled his feet, but said nothing.

Trent glared at him, and I could see the businessman coming undone. I glanced at Ivy to see her eyes were going black. The tension between the two elves was too much for her, what with the stress already on her, and I motioned for her leave the room and get control of herself. I sighed in relief when she didn't offer any resistance and I watched her close the door softly behind her before turning back to Jared.

"Is there any particular reason you had to throw me under the horses?" I asked, moving closer to the table.

Jared broke his glare at Trent to look at me. "You were a nuisance," he said, giving me a quick once over and then dismissing me.

I crouched down to be at his eye level, "Oh, don't you dare just assume I'm just a fly on the wall," I said quietly. "Trent may be following protocol right now, but I'm a demon. I don't need to." He looked at me again and I gave him a toothy grin.

He raised his upper lip, and his eyes clouded with annoyance. The man wasn't taking me seriously, and it was pissing me off. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I stood upright and moved away from Trent before he could do anything else. "Rache, let me handle it," he said quietly. I could hear the strain of anger in his voice, and I immediately backed off.

Trent finally sat across from Jared. "So if you're not doing this on behalf of your father, who _are_ you doing it for?" he asked, and I watched his hands. They were lying against the table, palms down. He wasn't tense, yet I could hear it in his voice. The man was a great actor.

"For myself," the man said smugly.

"You hate me that much?" Trent asked, "I've never heard of your name in the racing business. So why attack my horses?"

I could see the man grasping for an excuse, and I narrowed my eyes.

"You succeed at everything you do. I thought it was time to put you in your place," the man finally said.

"You're lying," Trent replied, and suddenly he reached forward, grabbing Jared's hands between his own. "Who sent you?"

Jared refused to speak, and I watched with unease as Trent began to whisper under his breath. Within seconds, Jared was trying desperately to remove his hands from Trent's grip, his eyes large with fear. "Who sent you?" Trent growled, but the man either wouldn't speak or couldn't speak.

"Trent," I called his name, trying to gain his attention. But I watched as he poured more energy into the elf in front of him. Jared's eyes began to tear up with the pain, and I was worried Trent would go over the edge. When I realized he wasn't going to respond to me, I gave his chair a good kick. Trent's hands broke contact with Jared's, and I watched the elf sag in relief as the pain ebbed away.

Trent glared up at me, "What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him up from the chair. "Can we talk outside?" I asked, sliding a glance at the elf sitting across from us.

"I'm trying to get the information out of him," Trent said, clearly angry that I had stopped him.

"I know," I replied, and pulled him out the door, shutting it behind me.

"Don't hurt him," I said, even as I realized how close I was to him. He wasn't much taller than me, but my eyes seemed to keep wandering back to his chest. Annoyed at myself, I finally looked him in the eye. "Don't hurt him, Trent."

"Why not?" he asked, his eyes still flashing with anger. "He's done enough damage to my horses. And he tried to seriously injure you!"

I shrugged, "But he didn't. You'd just be stooping to his level."

"I don't get it, Rachel. He nearly killed you. And now you're asking me not to _hurt_ him?" Trent asked, and he brought his hands up. I stepped back before he could grab my shoulders, and he clenched his hands into fists. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before shaking his head. "Fine. I won't harm him. But we'll never get any information out of him otherwise."

Trent turned away from me and headed down the hall, calling for his head of gate security. "See to the man. Question him until he gives. Don't release him until we get something."

I watched as he paced away, his shoulders tense.

Sighing, I headed back to the waiting area to find Ivy sitting down, her emotions under control. "We've brought him his guy, let's go," I said tightly, not waiting for her reply. I went outside and got in the car. Ivy followed, silent.


	14. Chapter 14

**Trent POV**

I stood in my office, my shoulders tense with agitation. I had left the gatehouse and Bierworth in a rush, trying my best to get away from Rachel and my warring emotions. Bierworth had tried to harm her and she didn't want me using force to get answers out of him?

There were some days when I realized I simply could not understand what went through that witch's mind. Today was one of those days. Frustrated, I sat down at my desk. I opened a drawer and slipped out a book of elven spells. I was flipping through it when there was a knock on my door.

"Come in," I said, and the barn manager walked into the room, looking awkward standing there in his paddock boots and jeans.

"Sir, we've decided to start Cinci's training today and I was wondering if you would like to be there."

I closed the book and quickly put it back in the desk. Figuring out how to get information out of Bierworth would have to wait until later. A trip out to the training track would be a good way to get everything off my mind.

"Lead the way, Loftus," I said, and the man nodded.

We quickly made our way to the barn where I happily saddled Tulpa. Sliding into the saddle, even in my business suit, immediately took the tension out of my shoulders, and I followed Loftus down the path toward the track.

I pulled Tulpa up but stayed on his back while I surveyed the track. I trained my horses on a turf track before trying them on dirt, and the track was kept just as meticulous as that at the real track. Cincinnati's Shining Star was prancing near our starting gate, obviously feeling better. After I had broken the curse, he had been kept on light training, and it was now time to get him back into racing form.

Just a few days off the track could change a horse's physical condition, and the sickness itself had most definitely taken its toll on the horse. But after a few days with nothing but feed to fill his gut, he was excited to get moving again.

Loftus slid off his own horse and walked over to the trainer. I watched as they had a quick discussion and the trainer nodded his head before heading toward the starting gate. Loftus motioned toward another jockey, who was saddling up one of my two year olds in training, and the man nodded.

Satisfied that they were going to give Cinci a chance to actually move, I settled further into the saddle and watched as the two year old was led toward the starting gate to enter into one of the chutes. The jockey was hoisted into the saddle, and there was silence as the two horses stood still inside the gate.

The bell rang and the gates opened. Cinci sprang from the gate, his hind hooves digging into the turf to propel him forward as the two year old burst from the gate next to him. Cinci's experiences on the track had him pushing past the young colt in seconds and I watched with satisfaction as the horse flew to the lead and took the inside rail.

The two year old tried valiantly to keep up with the experiences horse, but the poor thing didn't stand a chance. The colt was falling behind as Cinci opened up a large space between them, his legs pushing him forward by leaps and bounds. Within a minute it was over, and the jockey was pulling the horse up.

Loftus was walking back over to me, a grin on his face. "Well, it looks like he's back to his old self," the man said, and I nodded.

"I'd like to keep him in training for a few weeks before we bring him back out to the track," I admitted to my barn manager. "Make sure he gains all the weight he lost, and that he can beat more than just an untrained colt."

Loftus nodded, but he walked off with a smile still on his face. Tulpa snorted and pranced toward the rail, and deciding to indulge the horse, I walked him out onto the track. The two jockeys nodded my way as they rode by, their legs high up on the horses and their tiny frames dwarfed by the large animals.

Tulpa tossed his head, and I knew he wanted me to let him go. I loosened the reins and squeezed my legs. Tulpa shot out from under me, taking me across the grass track as quickly as his old legs would allow. It amazed me that he was still as spry as he was. And it was always a thrill to feel the wind in my hair while sitting behind his withers.

I had closed my eyes and was letting the horse take me where he wanted. I could smell fresh cut hay on the wind, and I knew he could too, but he kept going around the track. I leaned into the turn and finally opened my eyes to see the barn manager watching from beside the track, shaking his head. Grinning, I urged Tulpa onward, and the horse complied willingly.

I knew Tulpa could never keep up with the thoroughbreds that trained on this track, nor was a small enough to urge that sort of speed from him, but I knew he enjoyed it. When we pulled up next to Loftus the man just shook his head at me. "You're one of a kind, sir," he said, and I shrugged.

"I should probably head back to the office," I said, and turned my horse toward the path. "Thank you for suggesting I come watch Cinci's first training session. He looks well. Keep me informed of his progress."

"Yes sir," came the reply, and I headed off at a light trot.

When I got to the barn, I handed Tulpa over to a stable hand and headed back to the office. The moment I was off the horse, my thoughts strayed back to the man in our holding cell. Rachel didn't want me to hurt the man, but I had to get the information out of him somehow.

I had just opened the door to my office when an idea came to me. If I couldn't force the answers out of him with pain, why not force the truth out of him more directly? I turned away from my office and headed toward my apartments, intent on picking out a certain book of magic.

I found it quickly and flipped to the page I was looking for. I wouldn't hurt the man, but I was more than willing to try a truth-demanding spell on him. Closing the tiny book and sliding it into the inner pocket of my blazer, I made a beeline toward the garage.

I hopped in my Jaguar and headed down the driveway. I stopped at the gatehouse. Closing the door softly behind me, I nodded to the guards and made my way toward the back of the building. I could interrogate him at will until we had to legally let him go, and I was intent on doing it now. I found the man in one of the holding cells, and drew up a chair next to the cell door. The man glowered at me from inside.

"I'm back, Bierworth. Are you surprised?"

"Had to get rid of the missus?" Bierworth asked and I bristled.

"This has nothing to do with Morgan," I said shortly, "And everything to do with who you are working for. Why not make your life easier by just telling me."

The man scowled at me and turned away.

"So be it," I said smoothly. I slipped the book from my pocket and flipped to the page I had been to before. Finding my singing voice, I began to chant the elven words softly, but not too quiet that Bierworth couldn't hear.

The man looked up in surprise, but it was too late for him to do anything, as I weaved the spell and forced it toward him. I watched as the magic washed over him and his eyes became slightly more dull than before.

"Now, Bierworth," I said, drawing my chair closer. "Who sent you?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Rachel's POV**

The drive home was done in an awkward silence. While Ivy wasn't pulling an aura, she was giving off enough pheromones to send my hand to my neck every few minutes and it was driving me up the wall. I rolled down the window and almost shoved my head outside, but managed to keep myself under control.

At the last moment, I decided it wasn't worth heading back to the church if Ivy was still in a mood. I knew part of it had to do with Nina, and so I drove past our turn-off, heading toward the I.S. If she wouldn't go to see Nina, I would force her to. Nina needed her help, her love, and I wasn't going to let paperwork get in the way of Ivy and Nina living their lives.

I was still pissed at Trent, but I could put that aside to make sure my roommate was happy. We were halfway to the I.S. before Ivy shook herself from her cocoon of dark thoughts. "Where are we going?" she asked.

I glanced at her before focusing on the road again. "Where do you think we're going?"

"There's no point in going," Ivy snapped. "You think I haven't tried?"

I shrugged. "But did you have me with you?"

Ivy was about to speak, but I smiled with satisfaction as she settled deeper into her seat. If there was one thing I was, it was insistent. I'd get us in to see Nina if I had to bug every person in the building. We rode in silence until we reached the I.S. headquarters. I quickly parked and nearly had to drag Ivy into the building.

I smiled at my luck as I recognized the lady at reception. I made a straight line for her, and she looked in surprise at me as I walked up. "Rachel!" she said, and then looked around, her shoulders tensing. As always, I was viewed as a pariah rather than an old friend. But I could play that up, too.

I leaned across the desk, "Hi, Tiffany. I'm here to see Nina."

Tiffany back peddled on her rolling chair, "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her eyes darting around her desk, trying to pretend like I didn't scare her.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Really? She's a living vamp, about this high," I lifted my hand to indicate her height, "and is probably labelled _Bat Shit Crazy_. She's being detained for her own safety as well as others. I'm a colleague of hers and I'd like to see her."

I watched emotions flicker over Tiffany's face as she thought about my request. I refrained from sighing in relief when I saw her pick up the phone and dial an extension. She looked up at me, "Just this once," she said to me, and I knew our old friendship (if we could call it that) was pulling strings for me.

I turned back to Ivy, a smug smile on my face, while Tiffany talked to someone over the phone. "All you need is me," I said.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Just because you know the people who slack off doesn't mean your tactics will always work for you."

I shrugged and turned to follow Tiffany as she indicated we should go through the door behind her desk.

Ivy and I followed along behind the receptionist down a hall that was familiar. The drably painted walls and carpets didn't leave me feeling nostalgic. It only cemented my belief that working on our own was the best decision Ivy and I had ever made.

We were in the elevator, going to the bottom levels of the I.S. building when I could feel Ivy's stress rubbing up against me. I looked over to see that her eyes had gone nearly all black. Tiffany was pressed up against the corner farthest from Ivy, and her fear was not helping the situation at all. I breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator dinged and the door opened onto a stark white hallway.

Tiffany quickly escaped the elevator and I stepped out into the hall to get away from the heavy air. Ivy followed last, her boots silent against the concrete floor. I caught up to Tiffany as she was talking to a guard. Beyond the guard was a locked and warded door. The guard looked at me skeptically, and I raised an eyebrow, daring him to put up a fight.

"Come on, Doug. Just let them in. You can escort them out after a few minutes," Tiff said, and I watched as Doug's shoulders slumped. He stood up, gave Tiffany a look that I had a hard time deciphering, and pulled a large keychain from his belt. I stepped forward as Tiffany slipped back. I knew she would refuse to enter the holding area with us, and I was somewhat relieved. Putting her near all those angry vampires would be dangerous.

The guard indicated that we were to follow him, and I fell into step behind him as we walked down the well-lit hall. Cells lined either side of the hall, but each one was spacious. Both the insane and the dangerous lived in the cells, and I felt their eyes crawling on my skin as I walked past. I refused to make eye contact, but from brief glimpses into the cells, I could tell they were living comfortably at least.

We turned down an off-shoot hall, and the guard soon came to a stop in front of a softly lit cell. Inside, I could see Nina, sitting at a desk, her head in her arms. She was surrounded by books, but not one of them was open. The cot on the far wall was neatly made, and I wondered if she was performing the small tasks to keep herself sane.

Doug stepped back to the far wall when Ivy reached the cell door and placed her hands on the bars. "Nina," she said quietly, her voice low and deep. I was surprised to see tears standing in her eyes.

Nina lifted her head and looked toward Ivy. Nina's usually neat hair was dishevelled, and her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying, or perhaps from too much sleep.

I stepped back as the young living vampire stood up. She stretched her long limbs and moved toward the door of the cell. She slipped her hands over Ivy's, and I turned away, not wanting to watch the private moment between the two. There was love in Nina's eyes, and that's all I needed to see. Ivy would fix her, if the I.S. would give her the chance.

I wandered back down the hall, giving the two some privacy. After a few moments, I heard Doug follow me. I knew he wanted to keep an eye on me rather than give Ivy and Nina some privacy, but I didn't mind. I probably shouldn't be trusted walking among the convicted and insane unattended.

Doug fell into step beside me, but was silent. I could tell he wanted to ask me a few questions. The man was a were, and I had found weres more open to my being a demon than other inderlanders, and I knew he wasn't feeling any malevolence toward me. He was simply curious. Probably more about my pack tattoo than anything else, I though with a wry smile.

When we had come back to the door that we had entered a few moments before, I turned to look at him.

Doug stared back, unabashed. Finally, he asked a question. "Is it true that not all demon magic is black?"

I shrugged, and thought the question over. "I guess all demon magic is black," I admitted, "But not all of it is evil. Or used for evil, anyway. Magic isn't just black and white. It's an extremely complicated mix of shades of grey."

Doug nodded, agreeing with my description.

His next question came out of left field, though. "Are you and Trent really seeing each other?"

I stared at the were, floored. "Where did anyone get an idea like that?" I asked.

Doug shrugged. "The press has noticed how many times you've been at his estate the past week. They've also noticed that you seem to be representing him at the racetrack. People spread rumours. Are they true?"

I could feel my face burning up, but I shook my head. "We're just business associates," I said, and was shocked that I had admitted as such to a complete stranger. "He has me looking into something at the track."

Doug looked at me skeptically, and my blush continued to deepen. Great. There was no way he was going to believe me. And then the rumours would spread even farther. Scrambling to change the topic, I shrugged a shoulder toward the door, "Is it possible to set up a visiting schedule for my friend? She'd like to stop by every few days to visit Nina."

Doug was silent for a few moments before finally nodding. "I don't see why not. They obviously know each other, and from what I could tell, Nina remains calm around your friend. When their visit is over," at this he paused to look at his watch, "we can set something up."

With that, Doug started walking back down the hall, his steps slow, giving Ivy time to finish up any private conversation that was going on. His boots were heavy on the concrete, and it was obvious that we were approaching. When we turned the corner we found Ivy and Nina holding hands through the bar. Both vampires had tears on their cheeks, and I felt strangely awkward. I wasn't used to seeing so much emotion on Ivy's pale face.

"I'll come back, I promise," Ivy was saying. Nina was nodding, but I could see her hands trembling, despite her grip on Ivy.

Doug stood a respectful distance back and watched silently as Ivy extracted her arms from Nina. "Just keep working on those breathing exercises I told you about," Ivy said, her voice becoming cool and collected. If it weren't for the fact that there were drying tears on her face, you wouldn't have been able to tell that she was hurting inside.

Nina nodded and moved further into her cell.

Ivy smiled a bit, "And try reading one of those books. It'll help pass the time."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed back down the hall. Nina watched her go, her eyes black, but her will seemingly stronger than before. Doug and I turned and followed Ivy out. When we had reached Doug's desk, he stopped to talk to Ivy about setting up a set of meetings, and I stood wishing there were some art on the walls I could pretend to stare at.

When Ivy was finally finished, Doug called for Tiffany to escort us back upstairs, and we were soon out of the basement and into the late afternoon sun. We were just getting into the car when Ivy sighed. I looked at her to find her staring back at me, her eyes a chocolate brown. "Thank you, Rachel. I really needed that."

I shrugged, "I know you did. Now let's get back to the church," I said, "I'm ravenous."

**I'd like to apologize for disappearing. Life sort of went crazy, and I've been super busy. Work also started to be busy. But most importantly, I was having a hard time writing this chapter. I like the way it turned out, and I hope you do too.**

**I promise I'll get back to that cliffhanger with Trent next week. :)**


	16. Author's Note

Hello all!

I swore up and down to myself that I would never ever write a chapter as just an Author's Note, but I feel horrible for not updating this thing.

I'm over halfway through Camp NaNoWriMo right now, which is taking up _all_ of my writing time. However, the last day is July 31, and I'm hoping to be able to get back into She Won't Come to Me at that time.

Fret not, I'm still thinking about this story. And I hope to make it last as long as one of my novels, or even longer (50,000+ words). I'm just not able to do that sort of work while also writing a novel. It'll happen, I promise!

Until then, if you're looking for a really good Trench fic, I suggest reading Survival by cranapplepye. It's the best fic I've been reading that's still ongoing!


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